


The Bittersweet Fruit of Patience

by Just_Another_Day



Series: The Veretian Flytrap [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: 5 Times, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Epilogue, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, POV Laurent (Captive Prince), Series, bad timing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: Five times Laurent allowed Damen to share his heat with him (and one time he was absolutely adamant that that wasn’t going to happeneveragain).





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re an idiot.”

Damen answered Laurent's sharp greeting with a low groan, cutting off the yawn that had emerged almost as soon as Damen awakened. As far as Laurent was concerned, though, Damen had very little right to still be tired when he’d been sleeping almost non-stop for days, while Laurent had spent those same long hours restlessly worrying. 

Damen shifted slightly so that he could look directly at his visitor for the first time since days ago, when he’d been staring up half-blindly and mouthing sweet words at Laurent, as if he thought it might be his last chance to say them. 

Damen rasped, “I thought, after everything that’s happened recently, that you would have agreed that I should do whatever I could to minimise casualties.”

“Oh really?” Laurent asked sardonically. “Did you think that I was signalling my approval when I tried to yank your sword from your hand and told you that under no circumstances should you accept your brother’s challenge when you had everything to lose and he had everything to gain?”

Damen looked slightly sheepish. “It did work, though. I won, and there was no war because of it.”

“Barely,” Laurent reminded him. “It could easily have gone the other way. Too easily. Have you noticed that you keep almost getting yourself killed whenever you charge off on your own? I certainly have.”

Damen’s fingertips gingerly touched the tender spot on his left side just below his ribs, brushing over the top of the fresh bandage. “It wasn’t that bad,” he claimed, even as he winced even at that light pressure. 

It had certainly been serious enough that Laurent hadn’t trusted those physicians who’d been stationed inside Ios during Kastor’s reign to save Damen unless Laurent had them under constant personal scrutiny. But then, even though they’d presumably just been willing to fight him on the battlefield, or at the very least let Kastor do so, the southern army of Akielons similarly wouldn’t agree to leave their new King’s life in the unsupervised hands of a Veretian physician either. 

Paschal had therefore been allowed to act only as one of several healers assigned to Damen. There were so many of them, in fact, that they often could be found weaving around each other and Damen aimlessly, like scores of incensed bees protecting their hive. They had kept him alive through the worst of it, but it had seemed a near thing at times. Paschal now looked far more exhausted than any of the Akielon physicians, suggesting that he had somehow been working harder towards healing King Damianos than his own people had. Seeing that, Laurent trusted the others even less now than he had days ago. Ios would be employing an entirely new crop of physicians once its King was back on his feet. Laurent would make certain of it. 

In the meantime, Laurent had been watching them all like a hawk almost the entire time, to make sure no stupid decisions or outright sabotage slipped past Paschal’s exhausted eyes unnoticed. Laurent couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept himself.

Laurent knew that this wasn’t the best time to already be deprived of rest, but he hadn’t been about to leave Damen alone while he was injured and vulnerable, at least not for longer than it took to occasionally give those orders that were absolutely necessary to keep Ios running without a King on its throne. 

Damen's absence had nearly been a permanent state of affairs. There would be three scars scattered across Damen’s abdomen once this wound healed, each one inflicted at Kastor’s order or by his own hand. Damen had given Kastor three chances on his life. Three, but no more.

Damen had been seriously lucky, whatever Damen himself thought about it. A few inches difference in the location of Kastor’s stab, or even just a longer duration before Laurent had been able to summon Paschal to help staunch the bleeding, might have been all it would have taken. 

Laurent himself was also luckier than he’d ever imagined he could be not to have lost Damen, and was well aware of it. He’d already thought that Damen had been taken from him once before. His chest had felt hollowed out when he’d thought it could happen for real this time, especially now, when he finally knew exactly what he’d be losing. 

To bring that truth home to Damen as well, Laurent dumped onto Damen’s lap a blood-soaked piece of material that had started out white but had since been mostly stained the almost-blackened red of dried blood. He watched as Damen took in the mingled scents of the two of them emanating from the material and recognised that this was the chiton Laurent had been wearing three days ago when he’d pulled a freshly wounded Damen into his arms in front of the gathered armies of Akielos and Vere, and which he’d continued to wear for many of the long hours spent kneeling by Damen’s sickbed after that, right up until Paschal had finally been able to reassure Laurent truthfully that it appeared Damen would recover after all.

“That’s only as much of your spilled blood as seeped through my armour,” Laurent informed Damen. “And that’s also not counting what was absorbed by your own clothing, or how much of it wet the ground beneath you after you fell. Make no mistake, it was a grievous wound, not something to be just brushed off. And Kastor would have almost finished you entirely, if you hadn’t managed to get your sword back up at just the right moment and taken him by surprise.”

“Almost?” Damen prompted. 

“Well obviously I would have put him down before he could strike you again,” said Laurent. 

“It was single combat,” Damen reminded him, censuring. “We would both have been dishonoured if you’d interceded on my behalf.”

Laurent said, “The fight hadn’t even officially begun when he put his blade in you. He was the one who acted faithlessly, not either of us. Especially after you gave him every chance. Too much of a chance, as it turned out, and of course he took advantage. That was the kind of man he was. He was so different from you, brothers or not.” Laurent had warned Damen of that, but Damen had never really been willing to listen to anyone’s input about Kastor, even Laurent’s, whom he otherwise seemed to heed more than anyone else. 

“But he _was_ my brother,” Damen said. “I had to try.” 

Of course he did. Just as he’d had to ride for Ios when his father’s illness became known, despite the obvious risks and the low possibility that in doing so he could have actually changed anything. Laurent understood what motivated Damen all too well, both then and now. But that still wouldn’t have made the consequences any easier for him to live with had things ended differently on either occasion.

For all that he knew him, though, Laurent couldn’t quite tell whether Damen’s current expression reflected sadness or not. It was unusual for Damen, who was open to a fault, to appear even slightly inscrutable, at least to Laurent’s discerning eyes.

Laurent supposed that a man might possibly have mixed emotions about saving his own life by having to kill the last remaining member of his family. Especially when he’d so desperately wanted to give that person the benefit of the doubt that he was willing to overlook the challenge to a duel to the death issued just moments ago in favour of letting him approach to supposedly ‘speak privately’. 

Laurent wouldn’t really know about such things, personally. He had few enough fond memories of Uncle that all he’d felt upon killing him was relief and the tiniest bit of vindication. But he was hardly so blind that he couldn’t see how Damen seemed by contrast to really mourn Kastor, or at least the brother he’d thought he’d known. 

“He was your brother,” Laurent acknowledged. “And yet I wouldn’t for a moment have regretted killing him under those circumstances, even if doing so had lost both of us the respect of our people. I care far more that you continue drawing breath than I do for my honour, or even for yours. I can’t imagine that you, of all people, have forgotten that my brother died because he acted too honourably during single combat. I’d have done whatever it took to save him if I’d been by his side back then. I’d do no less for you now.”

Damen reached for Laurent’s hand, which he gave over willingly despite his lingering anger towards Damen for scaring Laurent for days on end. 

Damen asked fondly, “How did I ever get someone like you to give me the time of day?”

“Persistence,” Laurent answered, even if that didn’t begin to describe those elements of Damen’s character that had really won Laurent over. 

Damen drew Laurent’s hand closer to him and pressed a kiss to the palm. Then he inhaled sharply against Laurent’s wrist. 

“You smell amazing,” Damen commented suspiciously. 

“I would imagine that I do to you, yes,” Laurent agreed. 

“You’re nearly...”

“Yes.”

There was a long beat of heavy silence, and then: “Your timing leaves a lot to be desired,” Damen remarked. 

“Yes, silly me. I should have waited until it was more convenient for you. Next time I’ll be sure to show more consideration when it comes to going into heat.”

“How long do you have?”

“Maybe an hour until the worst of it starts,” admitted Laurent. “At most.”

Damen tried to sit up for a moment before Laurent hissed, “Lie back down and relax before I _put_ you down. You’ll undo all of Paschal’s tireless work patching you up.”

Damen settled back in place with a sigh. “Alright,” he conceded. “I can still help you through it from this position, I suppose, but obviously you’ll have to do a lot of the work.”

“I fully anticipate having to do _all_ of the work,” Laurent said, “because there’s no way I’m letting you risk injuring yourself even more. I’ve had more than enough experience for one lifetime of seeing your skin turn as pale as mine as I try fruitlessly to hold your blood inside your body.”

“Well I’m not about to leave you to suffer just because it might cause me a slight twinge,” Damen admonished, as if that was anywhere near the worst thing that could happen. “I know it’s more bearable when I’m with you.”

“Who said anything about you not being with me?” asked Laurent. “I thought I'd already made it very clear that you’re not going anywhere as long as you’re still hurt. As it happens, neither am I. Someone obviously has to watch you to make sure you don’t do anything else that might put your life at risk. And why should I leave, anyway, when I have a perfectly good palace with solid walls and plenty of security available for the duration, and when this room in particular is currently the most highly defended place in the whole country? Though, having said that, I would suggest that you should send away the Alphas that are stationed outside to protect you. We obviously don’t want a hormone-fuelled riot on our hands, but they showed no intention of abandoning their post just because I asked nicely. They’d need to hear that order from you, I think.”

Damen made a discontented sound at the mention of there being what the Alpha part of his brain undoubtedly saw as potential competition so close by, especially when Damen was in no fit state to help physically fight them off. Still, Damen hesitated to take steps to actually order them away; that would require calling at least one of them into the room to hear his instructions, which seemed a foolish prospect when Laurent was so close to giving off the difficult-to-resist perfume of full heat.

Damen looked to one of the palace physicians, who seemed to be busy doing something off in the corner of Damen’s sickroom, apparently utterly uncomprehending of the Veretian words spoken between the two of them, unless he was a far better actor than Laurent gave him credit for.

“Send a servant to fetch Nikandros,” Damen instructed in Akielon, as if the physician were a servant himself. The physician seemed to take the abruptness of the order into stride, though, and moved to comply without any sign of resistance. 

Laurent said nothing to dispute that being a good idea. On the matter of ensuring their King’s safety, the Akielon royal guards would certainly listen to the newly-appointed Kyros of Ios more readily than they had to Laurent. And, Alpha or not, the thought of Nikandros in particular being around Laurent this close to heat didn’t alarm Laurent any more than it apparently did Damen. Laurent was still just as convinced as ever that Nikandros wouldn’t imagine touching Laurent even in the dead of heat, though now he thought it would be more to do with him having unenthusiastically accepted Laurent as his King’s Omega rather than purely because he still resented and mistrusted Laurent so much that he was seen as entirely unappealing. 

When Nikandros entered the room, they didn’t even need to say anything to him. After the first inhale, Nikandros simply looked skyward, as if in an exasperated prayer for forbearance. “Exalted,” he said, sounding embarrassed, “forgive me, but I’m sure that your physicians would tell you that you’re not well enough yet for strenuous activity.”

“He definitely won’t be doing anything that could make his injury worse under my watch,” Laurent assured Nikandros, “even if I have to shackle him to the bed without an inch of slack to stop him.”

Nikandros looked as though his life would have been much happier all around had he never been gifted with that particular mental picture, but he wisely refrained from further comment.

“Besides,” Laurent added, “I’ve already informed my physician that he should check on King Damianos from time to time over the next few days to make sure that his injury continues to heal properly.”

“While you’re in the middle of heat?” Damen asked, sounding scandalised. Nikandros looked similarly discomfited at the thought of it, though probably for different reasons. 

Laurent rolled his eyes. “He’s a physician, and a Beta. I’m certain that he’s seen worse, and he certainly isn’t interested in anything that might occur in here except insofar as it affects his patient’s well-being. Your Akielon physicians should steer clear for the duration, though. I don’t particularly want them near me outside of heat if I can help it, let alone during it.”

Damen, looking like he was stuck in a state of shock at the idea of anyone other than himself just strolling around the room while Laurent was right in the middle of taking care of his heat, still nodded at Nikandros to confirm Laurent’s order. 

Nikandros sighed, but merely said, “Of course. Is there anything else, Exalted?”

It felt for a moment almost like Nikandros might have actually been encompassing them both in that title of power and respect. 

Laurent was probably just imagining it. 

Damen said, sounding pleasingly dangerous to Laurent’s heated ears, “Yes, there is. If the Alphas that are currently outside this room aren’t somewhere well on the opposite side of the castle within ten minutes, no amount of chaining me to the bed or newly-opened bleeding wounds are going to stop me from tearing their heads from their shoulders. And inform them, and anyone else who might come into contact with us, that I’ll be _severely displeased_ the next time I hear that King Laurent’s orders haven’t been followed as if they were my own.”

“I’ll send Betas to guard the halls close to you instead,” Nikandros consented. If he didn’t look overly impressed by Laurent having been given carte blanche over the Akielon military, then he still knew better by now than to actually bother saying so. 

“Some of those Betas should be King Laurent’s personal guards,” Damen added. “I trust them,” he continued when Nikandros looked sceptical. “So should you. I’m sure you’ll recall that it was Veretian soldiers who saved my life only months ago.”

“The presence of some of my own men would make everyone involved less prone to doing something stupid when word of precisely why most everyone is being sent from the King’s bedside inevitably spreads,” Laurent agreed. Once Nikandros bowed his head in acquiescence and retreated eagerly away from the room, Laurent added to Damen, “I know that you’re aware that it’s still ‘Prince Laurent' for now.”

“Not to me,” asserted Damen, “and not to anyone else here in Akielos either. You don’t have to be twenty-one for my country to recognise your right to rule. I assume, knowing you and seeing that the palace isn’t in chaos, that you’ve already been more or less ruling my people while I couldn’t anyway, however careful you might have been not to appear to be taking advantage of my incapacity. You’ve been acting like a king, and you’re certainly my equal. Ascension or not, you are the King of Vere in every way that matters. That should be reflected in your title.” 

Laurent shifted in place slightly, partly due to the prickling of oncoming heat and partly in discomfort at how certain Damen sounded, as though he truly believed it was just an incontrovertible fact. 

Damen added, “And besides, the people of Akielos should get used to thinking that way about you now, because I hope that you’ll be a King of this country as well as Vere soon enough.”

It wasn’t the first time recently that Damen had hinted at that, though Laurent’s reticence to respond to the sentiment in kind had apparently so far prevented him from pursuing the prospect more actively. It wasn’t that Laurent didn’t want that, dearly. He just didn’t want to tie Damen to a promise that he would stand by due to honour, even if Laurent still couldn’t help but wonder if it was really in Damen's best interests to follow through on it. 

To distract them both from that, Laurent settled on the edge of Damen’s bed, allowing Damen to shift over just enough to make room for him to eventually lie alongside Damen before he chastised him to stop moving around and straining the injury. 

Laurent reached for the ties of his clothes, suddenly feeling too hot for them. The heat was properly starting to set in now. 

Damen could apparently sense that too, for Laurent had to slap his hands away when he reached eagerly for the laces of Laurent’s pants to help free him from his restrictions more quickly. 

“I can help,” Damen protested. 

“You’re helping just by being here,” claimed Laurent truthfully. Just the closeness of his Alpha’s scent and his warm body against him, and maybe a pair of strong arms around him, would do wonders for fooling Laurent’s body, at least temporarily, into thinking that it was getting what it wanted and needed. 

This wasn’t quite how Laurent had hoped, in his most private dreams, to be able to spend his next heat. But it would still be better than the first few he’d spent entirely alone, or especially the one in Fortaine where Damen had been tantalisingly close but not enough to do more than tease at Laurent’s senses and make things even worse for him. This would be enough, Laurent told himself, even if Damen couldn’t actually touch him the way he wanted. 

Once he was fully unclothed and had draped himself naked alongside Damen, to Damen’s visible appreciation, Laurent sucked on two fingers to wet them, for his slick had barely begun to flow, for all that he was already feeling the need to touch himself. 

Damen watched, curling slightly against Laurent’s side, as Laurent raised his knees enough that his cock nestled against his belly, already leaking ever so slightly against the soft skin there. Laurent’s fingers found puckered skin and circled teasingly, taking it slow while he still could. His body was still preparing. He had time before there was any real need for haste. 

Damen looked as though he would desperately have liked for those fingers to be his own, or perhaps instead to let Laurent keep touching himself there while Damen remedied the fact that Laurent’s hardness was currently being ignored. He would be allowed to do neither of those things, though. Bad enough that Laurent was letting him so close at all, just so that Laurent could take comfort from his nearness. Letting him be actively involved entailed too much risk that they’d forget themselves and get carried away. Laurent would rather battle through this alone than risk inadvertently doing Damen harm. 

The full onset of heat made Laurent’s fingers automatically start delving deeper, no longer a mere shadow of what was to come. They pressed inside him, seeking release where before the sensation itself had been enough to tide him over. Damen watched Laurent touch himself eagerly, as if he were studying his habits as diligently as Laurent had once done when Damen gave him a show. Laurent didn’t think Damen really needed the help, though; he already seemed to know just what Laurent liked best. 

Laurent pushed Damen firmly but gently back away from him as his movements started to grow more desperate, so that they were barely touching by the time Laurent’s hips bucked as he came.

Damen’s whole body seemed to vibrate with the tension of holding himself back. Laurent took pity on him – on both of them – by grasping Damen’s arm and pulling it carefully towards himself until the weight and heat of it over his waist calmed some of Laurent’s shivering. 

“You should let me do more to help you,” Damen almost begged, even as Laurent let Damen pull their bodies a little closer. 

“This is enough,” Laurent assured him. And it was. For now. 

The third time he was made to remain perfectly still while Laurent worked steadily towards his own completion, Damen complained, "This is torture.”

"Really?" Laurent replied between panting breaths. "In that case, perhaps I should put away all of the whips and chains in Arles and take a more personal interest in questioning enemies of the kingdom."

Laurent felt the vibration of Damen's possessive growl against his back.

“You know what I mean,” Damen said through gritted teeth. 

“What, that I might be punishing you a little for getting yourself into this situation when I _told_ you not to agree to a duel, or to give Kastor the opportunity to sway you? Now why would you think that?”

Laurent’s hint of smugness was fairly short-lived, though. By the sixth time his cock hardened, he was entirely in agreement that this was torturous, and not just for Damen at this point. He was, to tell the truth, by then more interested in just sprawling in place and never moving again than in putting in the effort required of seeing to himself. Laurent’s body had other plans, though. 

Hoping to just get it over with as quickly as possible in the hope that he’d be allowed some small respite before the next time, Laurent simply buried his fingers straight inside himself, taking advantage of the fact that he was already well-prepared. Even though that should have made it easy to pleasure himself, though, Laurent still felt uncoordinated, and he couldn’t quite correct it.

His arm felt too heavy with tiredness to allow him to really satisfy himself. He could barely even keep his eyes open. His lack of sleep was certainly catching up to him. And now, unlike his last heat before this one, this was quickly turning into something more miserable than pleasurable after all. The only good part was that Damen was holding him just as close as Laurent would allow. That was nice, he admitted. The rest was hateful. 

Laurent groaned, not sure how to make it any better. Really he just wanted to sleep until it passed. Right now Laurent couldn’t imagine how he was going to stay awake and aware throughout, even as he knew that the drives of heat wouldn’t allow him to rest.

And it was still only the first day, as far as he could tell. It would probably last two more yet. This would only get worse. 

Damen seemed to know that as well, and to sense Laurent’s dilemma. He pressed a palm to Laurent’s chest just over his heart, holding Laurent in place against him, while his other hand knocked Laurent’s ineffectual fingers aside, replacing them with his own, which were larger and surer and _almost_ what Laurent was craving right then. 

Laurent mumbled tiredly, “I told you not to. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“It’s my side that’s injured, not my hand. And I’d rather take the slight risk that I’ll experience a little more pain than the certain knowledge that you’re hurting when I can do something about it. Surely you don’t think that your wish to see me whole and pain free isn’t reciprocated?”

“I’m not the one who’s in pain here,” Laurent lied. 

“No?” Damen clearly didn’t believe a word of it. Laurent’s inability to fool him was probably the best indication there was that he was in a poor state. “I promise that I’ll be careful,” Damen tried to reassure him. 

Laurent huffed. “You don’t know what it is to be careful.”

Except, that was, when it came to dealing with Laurent’s heart. Damen had always guarded that so closely; much better than Laurent had in turn looked after Damen’s at times. That tenderness had always been like a pleasant burn under Laurent’s ribcage, even before Laurent had been able to admit to himself that he had in fact given his heart away. Or that he even still really had one at all, for that matter. He regretted that he couldn’t always make Damen feel that same way because of how closed off he sometimes was. 

Which was exactly why the least Laurent could do would be to stand his ground and keep Damen from risking himself now. But he reached for his resolve and found it lacking. 

Really, Laurent should have known from the start that he wasn’t going to be able to resist Damen for long. 

“Fine,” Laurent agreed. “But if you worsen your injury, even slightly, I’ll only wait long enough for you to heal before I make you regret not listening to me.”

Damen grinned like Laurent had just given him the greatest gift he could imagine, and Laurent was for a long moment brought up short by the sight of his open joy. Until, that was, Damen's hands thoroughly diverted his attention.

It was perhaps the most drawn out build-up Laurent had ever experienced, even on the rare occasion when he was left entirely to his own devices and he could take it as slowly as he preferred. Both of them were eminently careful not to jostle against each other. Laurent could feel Damen’s hardness against his back and forced himself not to press into it teasingly, the way he would have done at any other time when they’d been in this position over the last few months. Damen, for his part, gave no indication that he even noticed how being able to touch Laurent at last was affecting his own body, except to hold himself very still. The strain of that combined with his arousal meant that Damen’s breathing came in short puffs, almost matching Laurent’s.

Eventually Laurent couldn’t help himself anymore and began rolling his hips just slightly back into the thrusting of Damen’s fingers, seeking more. Damen’s chuckle was low, the dual warmth of it echoing in Laurent’s ears and dispersing against Laurent’s neck before lips pressed under his hairline, just for a moment. They were gone before Laurent could protest against the strain it must have taken for Damen to bend into him like that.

“Patience,” Damen cautioned. Laurent could hear his fond smile in his voice. 

Normally Laurent would have had a retort at the ready, but right now Damen, even if he’d been half joking, happened to be right. They had to keep taking this slowly. Carefully. Even if every inch of Laurent’s body was currently striving towards a quick but satisfying resolution. 

In an attempt to still the instinctive shifting of his hips, Laurent scuffled his hands against the sheets, grabbing for purchase to hold himself in place despite how his grip hurt his overworked fingers. Better that he experience this minor soreness than that Damen was subject to something far worse because they’d both been too incautious. It didn’t much help to keep Laurent motionless, however, especially when Damen’s own fingers hastened and brushed intentionally against that place inside that rarely failed to force a whine from Laurent’s throat, especially deep into his heat, when his control was already frayed. 

“Easy,” Damen whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Laurent could tell that much. He felt thoroughly possessed, and it was so nice that he didn’t even think to snap at Damen when he felt the whole line of Damen’s chest and abdomen pressing against Laurent’s back, a wall of welcome warmth. His chin notched comfortably in the curve of Laurent’s neck for a moment, and Laurent heard him breathe in, long and slow. 

Their bodies were too close to be safe for Damen. Yet they weren’t nearly close enough. 

Laurent almost did protest when that warmth fell away from him, leaving him slightly bereft as Damen shifted himself clear across the other side of the mattress. But he knew why a moment later, when Damen’s fourth finger slid into him alongside the others, deeper, deeper, and then they all curled inside him.

Laurent’s whole body jolted wildly at the sensation, as close as he’d ever come to being knotted during heat the way his body wanted so intensely. Damen’s fingers gave one last twist, and Laurent’s cry was strangled by pleasure as he thrust his hips forward against the sheets and came into them, painting them as white as his vision went in that endless moment of abandon. 

He reached for Damen and didn’t immediately find him there, which was just as well, because their was no thought of carefulness in his mind at that moment.

Only once the shuddering of Laurent’s body began to die away did Damen move back to press his body close to Laurent’s once more. 

“That was stupid,” Laurent breathed. “I could easily have hurt you.”

“No,” said Damen, “I don’t think you ever could have.”

“You’re still too trusting,” Laurent warned, “even after everything. Do you really think I could have stopped myself even if I’d tried, with you doing _that_?”

“You didn’t have to, though,” Damen countered. “You don’t always have to rely only on yourself. I would never have allowed for you to have reason to regret trusting me.”

No, Laurent thought, he never had regretted that yet. He somehow doubted that he ever would. If anything, Damen might come to regret his faith in Laurent. 

But not today, Laurent promised himself. Not yet. 

Laurent relaxed ever so slightly back against Damen, his hips and cock both jerking slightly at the way Damen’s fingers shifted inside him, so close to simulating a real knot.

“If you’re not careful, I’ll be ready to go again in all of a minute,” Laurent said. 

“Is that supposed to put me off?”

“Would it, if I told you I wasn’t going to let you touch me again this heat?” Laurent asked. “That I was determined to do it alone?”

“Absolutely. But I don’t think you are going to tell me that, are you?”

Laurent’s eyes narrowed at Damen’s conceit. “I can deal with it myself. If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, from yourself if necessary.”

“I know you can,” Damen said. “I’ve never really doubted your capabilities. But I still like it when you sometimes let me help you just a little.”

Laurent had to admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that sometimes he really did like that as well. 

Since Damen wasn’t supposed to be moving around much, for all that Damen himself seemed determined to ignore that fact, Laurent twisted his own body around so that they were facing each other. In doing so, Damen’s hand was forced to fall away from him, for now. The tug of it registered low in Laurent’s belly, a spark of reawakening . 

“Remember that,” Laurent said seriously, “before you run off and do something stupid on your own again. Because I prefer it when you let me help you as well. It seems that we do better when we’re together.”

“All right,” Damen agreed, sounding pleased. He looked between them pointedly, where Laurent’s body was starting to react to the siren call of heat again. “And for now?”

“Touch me,” Laurent demanded in answer, his glare conveying that he expected Damen to care for his own present needs as much as Laurent’s while he did so.

“Next time,” Damen breathed as he reached eagerly for Laurent, “I’ll be able to do so much more than just that.”

Despite himself, Laurent found he was already looking forward to that.


	2. Chapter 2

“So the problem is what, exactly?” Laurent asked. He sounded more short-tempered than he’d like, but it was for good reason. 

Laurent had assumed that the Council had followed Laurent into Akielos rather than remaining behind in Vere to assist Herode as Regent because they understood that the regency was now fairly toothless, unlike when Uncle had held the position; any Veretian seeking lasting power would surely have to hitch themselves onto Laurent now, as his majority was just a few short months away at this point.

The evidence at hand, however, suggested that they might actually have come with him more because they thought he needed a babysitter than anything. This whole meeting was a case in point. 

Most of the Councillors currently looked scandalised by Laurent’s apparent rudeness, as if finally interrupting after sitting through fifty straight minutes of the same circular rant was somehow unwarranted. 

They wouldn’t have looked at him that way if they weren’t still used to viewing Laurent as little more than a petulant child. 

Jeurre reiterated, “Your Highness, the Akielon and Veretian courts are _melding together_.”

Laurent sighed. “Yes, thank you, I actually did understand that perfectly well from the Council’s initial dramatic re-enactment of every minute thing that’s happened since I left Ios. Perhaps it’s down to my exhaustion from having _just_ arrived back from the border regions, where reactions to the new alliance currently span from silent hostility to outright violence, but I have to admit that by comparison it seems unlikely that some immediate catastrophe would arise from the gathered courts of the two capitals at least pretending to get along with each other and support the eventual joining of Vere and Akielos.”

Jeurre spluttered inelegantly, clearly taken aback by Laurent’s not-very-Veretian level of frankness. 

Vannes cleared her throat in what was clearly a poor cover for her snickering at Jeurre’s expense.

It was Chelaut who was either brave or foolhardy enough to try to provide a cogent answer on Jeurre’s behalf: “I believe the concern might be that having the two courts inextricably intertwined could become problematic if _certain eventualities_ should never come about.”

Ah. Of course. 

He’d only been back in Ios for a few hours, but already Laurent had picked up on the prevailing palace gossip. It was, as it turned out, much the same talk as Laurent had recently heard on the Veretian side of the border. Apparently, with the impending changes, there were a few topics that were on everyone’s minds.

Laurent’s included. 

Still, Laurent stared at his advisers impassively. “Do you think I’m unaware of the potential negative consequences if things don’t go ideally?”

“Of course not, Your Highness.”

“Then it’s hardly a subject justifying what I was informed was an urgent enough Council meeting to require the three-hour postponement of the banquet dinner the King of Akielos has staged to celebrate my return, is it?”

Jeurre said, “I... Well, I suppose... not?”

Laurent glanced skyward, then shook his head. It wasn’t that these men were foolish, or they’d never have managed to become royal advisers in the first place. They were simply set in their ways, and far too used to considering themselves above Laurent in terms of power and importance. That couldn’t continue.

Laurent felt twice as exhausted when he departed that meeting room as he had when he’d first swung off his horse that afternoon, after weeks on end of hard riding. 

The swelling noise in the banquet hall as the feast was finally able to get underway certainly didn’t help to alleviate his tiredness. It was jarring; unwelcome. Laurent wanted nothing more than to be alone in the quiet of the King’s apartments just then. 

Well, perhaps not _alone_ , precisely. There was one person’s presence he would have gladly accepted.

Unfortunately, a place had been put aside for Laurent at the very end of the table as the ‘guest of honour’ for the evening. It was the complete opposite end of the table from where Damen was seated. From this distance, Laurent could barely even make out the details of Damen’s face, let alone hear what he was saying right then. All that he could tell for sure was that Nikandros was perched close by Damen's right hand and a number of Akielon ladies were practically sitting on top of each other in order to allow them to crowd at his left. 

Seeing that, Laurent somehow doubted that his and Damen’s separation was purely a coincidence.

Scant moments after Laurent sat down at the table, the pointed toe of a boot collided hard with Laurent’s leg. Laurent carefully didn’t allow any reaction to register on his face, and earned himself a petulant look for his restraint. 

“I can’t believe you left me alone here for so long,” Nicaise hissed sideways at him through gritted teeth. “What were you thinking?”

Nicaise viciously speared a piece of lettuce with his salad fork. It was clear that he’d much rather have stabbed Laurent's hand with it instead. Laurent was sure that Nicaise would have actually done it, too, if only a dozen armed guards wouldn’t have been itching to immediately fall upon him sword first for daring to harm the Prince.

“If you couldn’t handle a few Akielons on your own, I must have severely overestimated you,” Laurent challenged.

Nicaise’s nose scrunched and his lips curled downwards. His many hapless admirers would have probably called him adorable in that moment. Laurent simply found him amusing. 

“Well of course I could ‘handle' them,” Nicaise huffed. “They’re nothing but fools and brutes. If even _you_ can get their King so entirely under your thumb, I could obviously have the whole palace at my beck and call if I wanted.”

“I can’t see what you’d have needed my presence for, then,” Laurent said flippantly. “If anything, it seems as though I’d just have held you back.”

“You’d have provided a slight break from the monotony, at least,” admitted Nicaise. “Instead, I was stuck for months on end with only the brainless masses to talk to. Even the Veretian courtiers didn't provide any kind of challenge; they seem to have somehow grown even stupider since you left Arles. I’ve never been so bored.”

“Oh Nicaise, are you trying to say that you missed my company? How sweet. Still, it couldn’t have been all that horrific. You look like you survived more or less unscathed. And it was only for nine weeks, though I can see how that might seem like an eternity to a boy of fourteen.”

Nicaise bristled at the reminder of his age. “Please. I had to sit at the dinner table beside that savage of yours every single night since his handlers set him free. It might as well have been a whole lifetime.” Laurent strongly suspected that Damen hadn’t enjoyed that experience any more than Nicaise had. Served him right. Nicaise continued, “I have no idea why you would ever consider tying yourself to _that_ for the rest of your life. I couldn’t even stand a couple of hours a day with him for six weeks, never mind being by his side nearly constantly for years.”

Only six weeks of the nine that Laurent had been gone? No one, not even his Council, had been willing to comment to Laurent on how long it had taken for Damen to become mobile again after he’d idiotically reopened his wound by being too impatient to accompany Laurent when he’d abruptly been called away north. They probably hadn’t wanted to deal with Laurent in a mood made even worse by the knowledge that Damen had needlessly set himself back by three whole weeks. 

Laurent’s irritation abated slightly when he recalled that Damen was ostensibly fine now. When Laurent had seen him up close a few hours ago, he'd looked well enough. Though that was an understatement; he'd looked no less than amazing to Laurent, standing straight-backed and not favouring his injury at all, his skin darker than it had been since Laurent had first met him, an obvious marker of recent weeks spent being out and active under the Akielon sun. He’d even managed to look properly regal despite the fact that he’d been eagerly awaiting Laurent's arrival out in the fields beyond the palace walls instead of waiting to officially receive Laurent in the formal halls as one royal personage should to another. 

With another man, especially a king, that breach of protocol might have been Laurent’s only clue that Damen was eager to see him again. Damen, however, was never one to try to hide his smiles, and the softness of his eyes spoke the truth of it to anyone who cared to look. 

For his part, Laurent wasn’t quite so comfortable with showing the entirety of his heart in front of hundreds if not thousands of assembled relative strangers. But in his own way Laurent made sure that Damen had to have at least suspected how Laurent had spurred his horse into near frenzy throughout that last day of travel in his desire to cut down the time left until he could see Damen again. To the masses, his expression might have seemed emotionless, perhaps even ice-hard, but Damen knew him well enough by now to see through that. Laurent couldn’t easily keep his feelings secret from Damen anymore, if he’d ever truly been capable of that at all. 

Their shared gaze didn’t break for a second, either as Laurent approached or while Laurent was with great effort restricting himself to simply clasping Damen's arm. Even that brief contact had felt to Laurent like coming home, for all that he was currently deep in a foreign country. Laurent was, after all, used to ‘home’ being a person rather than a place.

“You know,” Nicaise said, taking note of the way Laurent was gazing down the line of the table, “the Akielons might be happy to see you now acting like just as much of a sap as their King, especially given how he's been moping uselessly around the castle like an overgrown kicked puppy for weeks. On the other hand, seeing him be all pathetic without you did seem to convince some of our own people that you were the one exerting influence over him rather than it being solely the other way around, even if he is the Alpha. So I suppose you could have _possibly_ done worse for yourself than picking up and leaving for over two months, if you'd really tried.”

“Are you auditioning as one of my advisers? It would certainly keep the rest of my Council on their toes,” Laurent mused. And so far this evening, Nicaise’s observations had probably been more insightful than most of the Councillors’, to be honest.

Nicaise grimaced. “Only if I can advise you to jump out of a window on the cliff-facing side of this so-called palace. Preferably before I have to watch you making eyes at your massive beast for much longer.” He made a string of childish retching sounds. 

“Oh, but apparently you’d miss me if I were gone,” Laurent teased. “And I have _far_ better plans for later than plunging into some jagged rocks, anyway.” He once more glanced speculatively down the table at Damen, setting Nicaise on another round of disgusted noises. 

Sadly, though, in the end it was the barely-pre-dawn hours of the morning by the time he and Damen got to spend any time alone. By that point, on the back of two weeks of travel and a long night of dealing with outwardly hostile or scheming nobles, Laurent was unable to do more than collapse fully clothed against the mattress. He was too exhausted to call for a servant to attend him, or even to attempt to convince Damen to do it. 

When Damen settled beside him moments later, the press of Damen’s body was so comfortable, and so sorely missed, that Laurent didn’t even try to resist the instinct to adjust his head so that his nose found the crook of Damen’s neck. A long inhale of Damen’s scent prompted a sigh. There was no further noise between them, for Laurent fell asleep in moments. He had just enough remaining awareness to promise himself that they would have time to properly spend together tomorrow, including having an important and overdue discussion. 

Perhaps he should have known better, with his luck. 

When Laurent woke in the morning, it wasn’t to the expected luxurious feeling of being engulfed for the first time in months in Damen’s grasping warmth. Nor was it to the feeling of his head resting in the crease of Damen’s shoulder, which to Laurent’s mind was somehow more comfortable than the softest of pillows in either of their countries. No, Damen might still be in bed with him, but he’d drawn away slightly and was currently dragging Laurent into unwanted wakefulness by urgently whispering his name. 

“You might remember that I sleep with a knife under my pillow, which I’m all too willing to use on annoying Alphas,” Laurent grumbled tiredly. 

“Good,” Damen said. “Keep it with you. You might need it in a few hours.”

That pushed Laurent the rest of the way into wakefulness. “What?”

Damen didn’t even have to respond, though, for Laurent automatically started taking stock of himself and his surroundings. He registered the over-loose feel of his limbs and the way the oppressive heat of the air was originally coming from Laurent’s body rather than the other way around. Laurent groaned and let his head fall back heavily against the mattress.

“I actually still hate you, you know,” Laurent declared. It came out far more half-hearted than Laurent would have preferred.

“You can’t actually blame me every time,” Damen admonished. 

Laurent rolled over slightly so he could glare at Damen. “Oh can’t I? You idiotically got yourself injured nearly to the point of death, and then hurt yourself again right before we were separated, and you think it’s coincidence that my body chooses the moment we’re back in proximity to go into heat?”

“Well it’s been nearly three months since the last one anyway,” Damen pointed out a little too reasonably to not exacerbate Laurent’s annoyance. “I was getting worried that you wouldn’t make it back in time. Wait, where are you going?” Damen asked urgently when Laurent pushed himself off the mattress and called for a servant to come dress him. “This isn’t exactly the best time to storm out of here, even if you’re irritated with me.”

“Don’t be dramatic. We simply have plans today, remember?” said Laurent.

Damen balked. “That was before. Obviously we’re not heading out into the wilderness with a group of mostly Alphas when you’re halfway to being fully in heat.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly ‘halfway' there. There was no sign of it at all when we climbed into bed last night or you’d have smelled it then. I'd say we have at least until tonight before it becomes too much of a hindrance. We’ll be back in these rooms by then.”

“It’s not a risk worth taking,” Damen said flatly. 

Laurent’s smile was sharp-edged. “Isn’t it? Do you expect that it will go over well if we're already unable to keep our promises and perform our duties purely because I’m an Omega? Many of my people still whisper their doubts about my ability to rule. I have no interest in fuelling that fire, after everything.”

“This is ridiculous, just so you know,” said Damen, apparently realising that Laurent had no intention of budging. 

Laurent couldn’t agree more. The last thing he felt like doing today was riding out with a hunting party. That would probably have been true even without his impending heat, for there were things Laurent would much prefer to spend this morning doing, and none of them involved leaving these apartments. 

But Damen had, by all accounts, already approved the hunt as soon as news of Laurent’s imminent arrival had reached Ios days prior. And after Makedon had started crowing the previous night about showing the Veretians how it was done, Laurent wasn’t about to withdraw from such a challenge unless he was legitimately dying. Add in that now it seemed that Laurent was going to have to retreat from public life in the palace for days on end straight after returning, and there was no way that Laurent could justify not taking this day to put in time in public, and particularly to scope out the other riders while the opportunity was there. 

At least some of those riding out with them today were hiding dubious loyalties underneath their surface show of support for Laurent’s and Damen’s agenda. And as he and Damen had proved while on the march in Vere, a lot could be learned from even simple things like who chose to ride side by side in a large group. 

Strangely, as they left the palace interior and approached the square where the riding party was gathering, there was a distinct shift in Damen’s attitude. If anything, he now appeared to almost be looking forward to the hunt rather than still dreading having to deal with Laurent being in tight quarters with a crowd of Alphas so close to his heat. 

The reason for the change became quickly obvious. Damen gestured to a servant, who guided over to him a horse that was certainly more than magnificent enough to be a king’s mount, but which was clearly not stocky enough to properly handle Damen’s size. 

It took Laurent a long moment to respond when Damen held out the reins to him in offer, looking expectant. Laurent, prince or not, wasn’t used to having good things handed to him so easily, without strings attached.

Unlike yesterday, Laurent couldn’t hold back the reflexive smile that bloomed on his face. Damen’s answering tender expression was even less inhibited. In that unguarded moment, no one who looked upon them could mistake the depth of feeling shared between them, nor that it was fully mutual. The gossips in Ios might have to amend their theories about their rulers' relationship after seeing that. 

“Beautiful,” Laurent proclaimed his gift. 

“Yes,” Damen agreed softly without sparing a glance at the mare. 

Laurent turned away slightly to hide his flush from their observers, though Damen could still see. He pretended that he’d only moved to reach out and card his fingers through the horse’s mane proprietarily. The horse arched into her new owner’s touch eagerly, having probably been recently been restricted to the perfunctory attentions of stable boys, which was far less admiration and affection than such a lovely animal deserved. In that moment she reminded him a little of Damen, who had been among devoted subjects and fawning underlings for the long weeks of Laurent’s absence, and yet had turned his body into Laurent’s last night like a plant that hadn’t known the touch of sunlight for that entire period.

After he swung easily into the horse's saddle, Laurent rubbed his palm gently down the strong curve of her neck, receiving a low whicker in response. Damen looked just as pleased by the continuing gentle attention as the horse was. In fact, Damen was distracted enough by Laurent’s awe-filled introduction to his new mount that he had to be reminded to also swing up onto his own sturdier horse so that the hunt could commence with the King at its front. 

Even then, it was clear to Laurent that Damen kicked his horse into action not to lead the scores of other riders, but to keep close to Laurent, who had charged out ahead, eager to put the mare through her paces, not to mention to prove wrong anyone who believed he’d been brought along on this hunt only for his ornamental value. 

His oncoming heat made Laurent less steady, certainly, but his spear-wielding abilities even while impaired were already tried and tested, and his seat was still surer than many of the soft courtiers that trailed him. Laurent was utterly confident that, even in such a state, he would make it to the mark first.

Though it would probably have been at least a closer competition if Damen had bothered to tear his hungry gaze away from Laurent for long enough to even notice the boar’s existence when their horses drew within range of it. 

In fact, if it hadn’t been for the increased awareness granted by Damen's suspicious glances around them to make sure the other Alphas were keeping their distance and not paying Laurent too much undue attention, Damen probably would have been so focused solely on Laurent that he'd have been bucked off his horse by now for absently directing it into harm’s way. 

Under other circumstances, as an Alpha in the presence of an Omega going into heat, Damen might have tried much harder to prove his prowess. As it was, there was no need. Like the rest of their two kingdoms, Laurent was long since convinced of Damen’s abilities with a weapon. It was Laurent’s skill that was far more often in question. But not that night, apparently. 

To hear Makedon recount it as they rode back to Ios at the end of the day, Laurent’s spear throw had taken down the boar even from some hundred feet away and through a pinpoint opening in a thick copse of trees. The listeners laughed and cheered Makedon’s animated storytelling, as if most of them hadn’t seen the less exaggerated truth first hand. 

Less than half an hour later, they arrived back through the gates of Ios. Many of the other riders leapt eagerly down from their mounts and threw their reins away carelessly, departing for the full cups of the halls of Ios before they could even be sure that their horses had been secured by the waiting servants. But the prospect of what was to come over the next few hours conversely didn’t leave Laurent quite as impatient to be back inside the castle as that, especially when it meant passing off his gift to someone who wouldn’t appreciate her half as much as Laurent.

Makedon in particular couldn’t be detained for long, though, and he insisted on sweeping Laurent along beside him the moment Laurent’s boots touched the ground. His thick arm wrapped itself around Laurent’s shoulders like they were the oldest of friends. Laurent was fairly certain that he heard a low growl following in their wake from where Damen was trailing them. 

Laurent pushed down a derisive snort. As if Makedon, of all people, was any kind of threat to Damen’s claim, Alpha or not. 

Yet it probably didn’t help when Laurent was pushed into a seat directly beside Makedon at the banquet table. Luckily for everyone involved, unlike the previous night, Damen was able to claim a seat at Laurent's other side. His glower as he did so probably helped to warn off anyone else who might have thought to sit there, or to generally challenge him for Laurent’s company.

For the most part, Laurent found his behaviour equal parts hilarious and exasperating. But Laurent couldn’t deny that the inherent threat of Damen in a possessive mood might come in handy shortly. Apparently the first successful hunt since the new King had officially taken his throne traditionally called for a night of drinking to excess, at least according to the Akielons who were growing more and more rowdy around him. To Laurent, on the other hand, a castle full of drunken Alphas sounded like the worst idea in the long and illustrious history of stupid Akielon ideas right now. 

At least, he thought, it put the Alphas on somewhat even ground with Laurent. After an hour or two, most of them were even more shaky on their feet than Laurent was. If the lowered inhibitions that rode in the wake of the drink happened to make anyone feel unduly entitled as the night went on, it would hardly matter; Laurent would practically be able to knock many of these men to the ground just by breathing on them by that point, though he sincerely doubted that Damen would keep out of it long enough to test that theory.

Of course, the low threat to Laurent’s safety and virtue, such as it was, didn’t seem to calm Damen, who was barely shy of clinging to Laurent like a limpet all night, propriety be damned. Nor did it prevent a few awkward exchanges that made Laurent half wish that _he_ was drunk so that he might have a chance of forgetting them. 

The last of those involved Makedon, who had devolved from bragging about Laurent’s exploits on his behalf to slurring odd compliments at Laurent. The last straw was: “You smell like flowers. Pretty yellow buttercup.” He was thankfully far too drunk to actually realise what a change in Laurent’s scent represented. He was also, however, drunk enough that he didn’t think to restrain himself from reaching for Laurent’s hand and, once he had a grasp of it, bringing it to his face. Makedon nosed at Laurent’s wrist and inhaled against it, while Laurent debated the merits of balling that hand into a fist and smacking it into Makedon’s face repeatedly until his nose was too bloodied to smell anything at all. 

It was a pity that Laurent was all too aware that they couldn’t afford to have Makedon ever turn against them. A King never knew when he’d need to call upon his generals.

Damen, on the other hand, seemed like he might have momentarily forgotten that Makedon controlled practically half of his army, if the enraged expression he directed at the man were any indication. 

“I think that’s our cue to call it a night,” Laurent said quickly, yanking his hand back. Laurent then deliberately placed that same hand in Damen’s, both to help him hold Damen back if needed and as a visual reminder of them being linked together that surely not even Makedon at his drunkest could fail to understand. 

“The jealous Alpha routine isn’t attractive,” Laurent lied as they walked briskly through the halls towards Damen’s rooms. 

Damen stared at him knowingly, which brought a slight flush to Laurent’s cheeks.

On principle, Laurent would have liked to try to debate that further. But once they stepped through the outer door of Damen’s rooms, Laurent made no move to resist the way Damen gently captured Laurent’s chin between his fingers and tilted Laurent’s face up for a kiss. 

“Stop,” Laurent ordered after he’d allowed the sweet exploration of his lips and mouth continue for far too long, but still not long enough.

Damen’s hands immediately fell from Laurent's hips, an ingrained response after so long spent worrying that he might push Laurent too far beyond his carefully constructed limits. 

Laurent explained, “My heat’s probably still hours away from fully setting in. I intend to get as much sleep as possible before then. So should you.”

“Sleep?” Damen repeated, uncomprehending, as if it was bizarre to suggest such a thing. “ _Now_?”

Laurent knew that he looked unmoved by Damen’s plaintive tone. “You might recall that I’ve been through heats when I was already exhausted from the start. I have no intention of doing that again when I don’t have to. And if you want to actually see this whole heat through with me without keeling over unconscious at the end, you might want to do the same. I don’t intend to go easy on you this time. I expect you to keep up.”

Laurent showed no sympathy for him as he shed his chiton, which might have precipitated the breaking point of Damen’s self-control were he a lesser man. Laurent simply climbed into the ridiculously large bed, turning away from Damen and closing his eyes. 

Laurent didn’t curve his body back into Damen’s as soon as he laid down beside Laurent, as if seeking either warmth or comfort, or both. Not a chance. He certainly didn’t allow himself a little smile at feeling that Damen was still slightly hard against him. 

When Laurent awoke hours later, it was to a sensation not unlike burning up from the inside.

Damen was quick to jolt awake as well, probably drawn out of sleep as much by the abrupt change in the air as by Laurent impatiently nudging him and calling his name. 

Damen was surprisingly quick to gather his wits around him, reaching within moments for Laurent’s cock. 

“Leave that for now,” Laurent ordered. “I’ve got a better use for that hand.”

“Oh?” Damen prompted, intrigued.

“Obviously you can’t knot me properly.” Laurent purposely didn’t say ‘yet', for that wasn’t an implied promise he was quite prepared to make. “Last time was the closest I’ve ever experienced to that, but even then it wasn’t all the way there. I want to have a better understanding what it would be like.”

Laurent closed his hand around the outside of Damen’s and demonstratively pressed Damen’s fingers and thumb all together. 

Damen’s eyes were practically black, all pupil. “Yes,” he breathed. “Please. Let me show you that.”

He sounded almost as excited as if Laurent had told him that he could knot Laurent after all. When Laurent commented on it, though, Damen merely smiled slightly and said that he wanted to finally see Laurent with his inhibitions all fully shattered, as if he thought a heat spent alongside Damen wasn't already enough to do that to Laurent even without any special treatment. 

That should have made Laurent nervous, but he found that it was difficult to feel any kind of tension when Damen was in the middle of giving him a full-body massage, especially when Damen was goading Laurent into grinding his hips down into the mattress while Damen’s fingers worked some strange Akielon magic on his back muscles. 

“Fuck,” Laurent finally groaned and came into the sheets. 

Damen took his sudden laxness as a sign that he should move his hands from Laurent’s back to the rounded curves of his ass. At first he did no more than continue the massage there, his fingers prodding onto firm plains of muscles but no deeper. By the time his cock was showing interest again, Laurent found himself reminding Damen what the goal actually was. 

“Patience,” Damen schooled him. “Don’t start pretending that you don’t like it slow.”

There was slow, and then there was excruciating. Luckily for Laurent, Damen seemed to encourage anything that would further relax Laurent’s body along the way, so Laurent didn’t feel hard done by. After all, he was on his fifth climax by the time Damen had four fingers pressed into him. Damen hadn’t exactly left him wanting. 

Still, Laurent teased, “I’ll be wrung out long before you get the rest inside. The way you’re going, my heat might be over by then.”

That was a lie, of course. The rising intensity of each time he came suggested that, if anything, his heat was still well and truly on the upswing. It certainly showed no signs of petering out any time soon. They likely still had nearly two days to go. 

Though Laurent felt as though he might not live that long if Damen didn’t stop slowly torturing him in the best of ways. 

Eventually, when what felt like hours passed without making any progress past those four fingers at that same depth, for all that the time had admittedly still been spent pleasurably, Laurent asked, “What are you waiting for?”

“I want to make sure it’s good for you. You know, I’ve never done this before either,” Damen admitted.

“With an Omega, you mean?”

“With anyone.”

Laurent’s breath caught. He hadn’t thought to find any kind of bedplay in which his and Damen’s experience, or lack thereof, was actually equal. That somehow made this whole thing seem even more intimate. 

“Don’t worry, I still trust you not to hurt me,” Laurent promised. 

“I know you do,” replied Damen. “And I don’t ever want that to change. So let me take my time with this.”

“Oh fine then,” Laurent said, though it sadly came out more breathy than haughty. 

For all of the build up, somehow the string of moments in which Damen’s last knuckles breached Laurent felt no less intense. By the time his thumb joined the rest, Laurent was sobbing into his pillow. He didn’t quite ejaculate when most of the lower part of Damen’s hand pressed in, at least not in large pulses like he normally would during the first day or two of heat, but the shudders of his body nonetheless felt like a kind of peak. Laurent rode that sensation in a kind of haze for a while (he had no idea how long had passed) before he came back to himself enough to feel the kisses Damen was laying against the back of his neck. 

“Tell me how it feels,” Damen coaxed. 

“Can’t.” It was indescribable.

“ _You’re_ lost for words?” Damen asked, sounding impressed. “I hope that means it’s just that good.”

Laurent could only manage an embarrassing whine, which Damen thankfully understood to mean ‘absolutely’. 

“Let me see you, then,” Damen begged, for Laurent had buried his face away from view. 

Laurent shivered at the lowness of his voice as he said those words. It was clear that this moment had been why Damen had sounded so anticipatory when Laurent had asked for this. Knowing that Damen just wanted to see and help him experience this, more than he wanted physical pleasure for himself, seemed to trigger something almost primal in Laurent. 

His Alpha just wanted to care for him, as intensely as Laurent would allow.

Laurent wished that didn’t make him feel slightly guilty. He pushed that sensation aside for now. 

Laurent doubted that he could have looked particularly attractive, red faced and sweaty and with his bottom lip swollen from being sucked and bitten for so long, but judging by Damen’s face when Laurent turned to him and met his eyes, Laurent might as well have been the hottest thing in the world at that moment.

Watching Laurent’s expression closely, Damen flexed his hand very slightly, but given the fullness inside him, to Laurent even that movement felt massive, not to mention intense. It was no wonder that Laurent was practically screaming as he came again moments later. 

When Laurent had stopped gasping desperately for air, he reached down and did his best to return at least some small percentage of the overwhelming feelings Damen was drawing out of Laurent. Damen made a strangled noise as Laurent’s fingers closed around him. Eventually, the shifting as Damen’s shudders travelled throughout his body, including down his arm, set Laurent off again right alongside him. 

“For once I won’t joke about your stamina if you need a break from this,” Laurent promised some minutes later. “You can just claim you were desperate to get your mouth on me instead if you want to save face.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Damen breathed, which set both of them to laughing tiredly. Damen eventually added, “Though I really am dying to taste you.”

“Well don’t hold back on my account.”

Once Damen had very slowly withdrawn all of his fingers and made good on his words, he collapsed alongside Laurent, his chin resting against the hollow of Laurent’s hip.

“I can’t wait to be able to really do this properly. I want to give you everything you need, without holding back,” Damen mumbled into Laurent’s throat. “Next time.”

Something in Laurent’s chest clenched. 

Laurent stroked his fingers through Damen’s hair and said nothing in response to that. Damen apparently didn’t notice his silence, or at least was too tired to correctly interpret it. 

But as Damen pressed more and more heavily against him, his smile curving against Laurent’s skin as he was able to fall into a short doze before Laurent needed him again, Laurent felt the points of contact between them like burning brands. 

When Laurent placed his palm gently against Damen’s chest, he felt their time together measured in finite beats.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more or less Adventures of Charls compliant.
> 
> Heads up that canon-typical warnings apply to this chapter to a greater extent than they do in the rest of the current fic, though it's nothing that hasn't already been at least referenced in this series to date. Though this gets the closest to dubious consent that this series ever has or will.

This, Laurent decided, was what he got for listening to Damen. 

He'd promised Laurent a well-earned period of quiet togetherness, if only Laurent would consent to organising a little misdirection. Laurent’s talent in that field was unrivaled, so presently everyone was utterly convinced that Laurent was in Acquitart and that Damen had embarked on the journey to Marlas for Laurent’s coronation among the official retinue that had departed Ios weeks earlier than the two of them had actually set off. 

But Laurent should have known by now that Damen's ‘good ideas' rarely turned out well, no matter how enticing they might seem at the time.

Now, with the border still a week’s ride away, those few soldiers that had accompanied them at all weren’t yet expecting to deal with anything more troublesome than Laurent and Damen repeatedly disappearing off on their own for hours on end without bothering to announce that they were leaving or to take any guards to protect them. 

As such, the small troop had seen no problem with indulging in wine this evening, and each evening preceding it. Nor had Laurent begrudged them that, as long as they were fit to ride each morning. It was a time for celebration on the heels of significant upheaval, after all. They should all be entitled to at least a little relaxation before Laurent’s Ascension brought on a new flurry of activity across the two kingdoms. There was surely no pressing need to be constantly paranoid and on guard.

In other words, whoever had targeted Laurent tonight had chosen their moment well. 

Laurent now found that he only had one path to supposed safety, and that involved removing himself from everyone who could, at least under other circumstances, offer him protection.

Laurent slipped away from the table discreetly enough, made easier by the men around him being deep in their cups. He wasn’t sure if he could go equally unnoticed while passing through the entirely sober Akielon soldiers standing watch at intervals around the small encampment. However, Enguerran had insisted that a few Veretian guards be strategically interspersed among the Akielons, and thankfully not all Veretian guards were Alphas. 

Though when Laurent saw a pair of Beta soldiers side by side in an otherwise complete circle of Alphas, his finely honed skepticism reared its head. Such a chink in the armour was a little too convenient to not be engineered. Laurent strongly suspected that he was being purposely corralled in that direction.

Well, if he was going to have a noose drawn tightly around his neck, ready for Laurent to hang himself, it might as well be to a purpose; Laurent would simply have to spring this trap on his own terms. 

Laurent staggered towards the two Betas, half toppling into the one on his right. 

“My apologies, Your Highness,” the guard said, as if it were in any way his fault, even as he glanced across the gap to the other Beta guard with a meaningful expression.

“See that you don’t do it again,” Laurent said haughtily as he dropped his hand to the guard’s hip, ostensibly to steady himself. A moment later, he pushed himself away. He then swayed out towards the tree line, away from the group of pitched tents, to the tune of unheeded protests. 

The guards would assume that Laurent was as drunk as the rest of the camp. Anyone else who might be watching him with assessing eyes would likely assume something quite different.

Once he was out of view, Laurent paused and drew in a breath, fortifying himself with the slightly more chilled air away from the fires and packed bodies of the camp. 

When there was eventually the sound of a heavy footfall and dirt crunching beneath a boot heel, Laurent wasn’t surprised to find that it wasn’t just some hapless soldier stumbling away from the revelries to relief himself, but rather someone weaving purposefully through the trees towards Laurent, eyeing him darkly. 

Even if he hadn’t detected the pungent scent of an Alpha (the _wrong_ Alpha, Laurent’s instincts cried), Laurent would have been under no illusions that the man who approached now might be anything else. He had a brutish look about him, and came across more like a mercenary than a Lord’s sixth son. He was clearly no Beta, let alone an Omega. 

But in truth, Laurent didn’t need those indicators of his nature, for he immediately recognised his face. 

“Ragenard,” Laurent greeted. “I hadn’t realised that you’d decided to come along with us on this little expedition.”

“I didn’t,” Ragenard said. 

“No,” Laurent replied thoughtfully. “Enguerran doesn’t trust you well enough to recruit you for a small contingent sent to guard me. For good reason, it would seem. Though I’d be interested to find out how that little gift made its way into my drink if you weren’t inside our camp to deliver it.”

“I’m hardly the only one who wishes to prevent the throne of Vere from being ground into dust.”

“I didn’t expect that you'd be acting alone,” Laurent agreed. “At the very least, someone must have lined your pockets for your troubles, since you’re hardly the type to come up with such a scheme just to get me on my back. Though I imagine that you must consider that a nice perk. No, wait, my mistake; when you were in the Regent’s Guard you always used to talk about how I’d look on my knees, not my back.”

“Perhaps I did,” said Ragenard, flushing slightly pink at having been caught out. “But, believe it or not, I also actually defended you when people started speculating that an Omega was too weak to rule. I thought that surely Prince Auguste’s beloved brother, who had the same noble blood running through his veins, must be made of sterner stuff than that. Obviously I didn't expect you to throw open the gates of Arles for your brother’s killer just because you’re hot for his knot, and then to eventually pass Vere entirely over to his rule once you’re too busy popping out his half-barbarian progeny to actually rule the kingdom yourself.”

Ah yes, because no one believed for a moment that an Alpha and Omega relationship wouldn’t result in an endless stream of pregnancies. Under other circumstances, Laurent might have rolled his eyes, but at the moment it was something of a sore topic. 

Ragenard continued, “Everyone knows that the so-called alliance of Kings would never have come about if you weren’t an Omega. And everyone equally knows that the alliance will fall apart if the Alpha King can’t claim from you all that comes with being an Omega. If this is the only sure way to stop it, then so be it.”

Privately, Laurent thought that Ragenard, or whoever had come up with this plan, had a point; the kingdoms likely wouldn’t accept unity without a marriage and heirs to tie them together. Perhaps Damen wouldn’t have even pushed for the alliance without the expectation of one day having that either. It was a concern that Laurent couldn’t keep ignoring for much longer. 

Still, Laurent claimed, “If you think a drug will be enough to make me do anything worthy of making Damianos reconsider our alliance, you severely underrate my bloody-minded determination.”

When Ragenard reached for Laurent, Ragenard jerked away with a yelp and a bleeding palm. Laurent pushed the now-reddened knife the rest of the way out from where he’d hidden it up his sleeve when he’d pick-pocketed it from the Beta guard he’d intentionally stumbled into. 

“If you wanted that to save you, you should have aimed for more than just my arm while you still had the advantage of surprise,” Ragenard said with gritted teeth. 

“That would presuppose that I wanted you dead straight away.”

“It was straight away or never, I’m afraid; you won’t get another chance with it later.”

“I won’t need one,” Laurent said. 

He kicked out at the Alpha, who smugly leaped back slightly out of reach of Laurent’s boot, only to find himself grabbed from behind. 

“You took your time,” Laurent chastised. 

“Obviously when a guard told me that King Laurent had just stumbled drunkenly out of the camp, I initially thought that _he_ must have been the drunk one, not you,” said Damen as he put his wrestling experience to good use. 

“I’m not drunk so much as drugged,” Laurent corrected. 

The ever-escalating smell of an Omega fast approaching heat must have given away the kind of substance that was used against Laurent. Damen looked like he might tear out the interloper’s throat with his bare hands. Except then he caught sight of Laurent shaking his head, which was thankfully enough to stay his hand. 

Laurent wasn’t about to willingly settle for punishing this one man when he could use him to uncover a greater threat.

Laurent told Damen, “You can calm down those angry and possessive Alpha instincts; despite appearances, I don’t believe he actually cornered me out here because he intended to fuck me.” Laurent purposely didn’t mention that Ragenard's employer probably wouldn’t much care if he did take advantage of Laurent’s heat before handing him over. That would have been a sure-fire way of making Damen ignore Laurent’s request not to execute Ragenard just yet. “If you kill him before we uncover who sponsored this attempt, we can expect to face more just like it, or perhaps something worse, within the next few weeks leading up to my Ascension. I’d much prefer to just uncover the perpetrators’ identities now, wouldn’t you?”

“ _Now_?” Damen asked, his voice strangled. 

“Well, perhaps in a few days,” Laurent amended, to Damen’s obvious relief. Apparently Damen could tell that Laurent was already in no state to question a prisoner. 

Laurent had beads of sweat trailing down the dip of his spine. He was also barely keeping himself upright through the harsh cramping sensations below his waist, which surely indicated that his body was gearing itself up too quickly to adjust easily. It clearly wasn’t going to take the usual day or two from the first signs of heat approaching until he started writhing for relief. He was, in fact, almost at that point already. And who knew how quickly this would continue to progress with the unnaturalness of the drug pressing it onwards. 

So no, there would be no questioning their newly-taken prisoner today. 

Laurent and Damen had bigger problems than Ragenard, anyway. Whoever Ragenard was hoping to pass Laurent to when he was insensible and begging wouldn’t wait patiently forever. They'd come looking, as would the soldiers once they realised that Laurent and Damen had disappeared for longer than their usual rendezvous. They couldn’t remain in the vicinity unless they wanted to interrupt Laurent’s heat with an all-out brawl. 

But judging by the way Damen was unconsciously listing towards him, Laurent’s scent was already strong enough that they couldn’t risk going back to a camp full of Alphas whose collective ability to fight off the effects of an Omega’s heat was made doubly questionable by the abundance of wine. Damen wasn’t about to leave Laurent alone with Ragenard while he went by himself either. There was no way to get horses to carry them away quickly, and so no way to make it the many miles to the nearest town before they had to stop.

All they could do was hope that walking would at least put some distance between them and anyone who might pursue them. 

They delayed only long enough for Damen to secure Ragenard with the rope that Ragenard had clearly intended to use against Laurent. He also bound a strip that he unceremoniously tore from the bottom of Ragenard's shirt around Ragenard’s face as a makeshift blindfold and gag, though it didn’t completely muffle the sounds of his invective. 

“Are you all right?” Damen finally thought to ask after they’d started down the path. As if to threaten what would happen if Laurent’s answer was ‘no’, Damen yanked viciously at the rope, causing Ragenard to stumble behind them. 

“Yes,” Laurent replied quickly, and then more honestly added, “and no. It’s not that I thought the scheming would end with Uncle’s death; Vere is Vere, even with the head of the snake cut off. But I admit that I’d hoped that any moves made against me now would be more political and less personal. I’d hoped that Uncle was the only one who wanted to see me brought this low.”

“You haven’t been brought low by this,” Damen disagreed. 

“You’re just saying that because you like it when my usual control disappears,” accused Laurent. 

“No, I like it when _I’m_ the one to make that tight rein you have over yourself snap, not when some drug robs you of your choices.”

“I still have a choice,” said Laurent soberly. “I wouldn’t have pretended to be drunk for the guard’s benefit so that he'd report to you if I hadn’t wanted you to come looking for me and be here with me now.”

“But you wouldn’t have wanted it like this,” Damen pointed out. 

No, that was true. Laurent had, at the very least, wanted to have enough time before his next heat came along that he could have an important discussion with Damen first. But Laurent’s heat never did seem to come at the most opportune times. He should have known better than to put it off, however much he dreaded that conversation. 

Now there was no time left. It was only twenty minutes, in fact, before a noise emerged from Laurent’s throat without his permission. Damen glanced over worriedly. However much of the strain was showing on Laurent’s face was apparently enough to make Damen reach across with the hand that wasn’t towing their prisoner along behind them. Laurent expected that Damen might squeeze his hand in a show of support and comfort. Instead, Damen’s fingers went straight for the ties of Laurent’s pants. 

“Keep walking,” Damen instructed as Laurent faltered slightly for a second. Easier said than done, Laurent thought, since Damen had by now grown practised enough with Veretian laces to quickly loosen them enough to dip his hand inside the material. 

“Oh,” Laurent sighed, leaning sideways against Damen’s strong shoulder. 

A muffled grunt from behind them reminded Laurent that the Alpha trailing them didn’t need to hear what was happening as well as smell their mingling arousal. That would be difficult to counter, given the apparent strength and speed of the onset of this heat. But it was a game, Laurent decided, not unlike those he and Damen sometimes played for fun: to let nothing damning be overheard by a potential audience.

Laurent almost always succeeded at such challenges, no matter how determined Damen was to make Laurent’s veneer crack under the exquisite pressure. He could do it now as well.

Luckily, Damen required no words or audible noises to know how to please Laurent. Even though he couldn’t do more in this position than take Laurent’s length in one hand, his thumb caressing the tip teasingly, luckily at this early stage that still was enough, even if it wouldn’t be for long. 

Laurent finally couldn't help himself. He stopped in his tracks and arched his back into the source of the sensation. Laurent suddenly halting while Damen continued walking resulted in a particularly strong pull, which brought Laurent gasping to his knees while he painted the dirt and the hem of his jacket white. 

“This looks like a safe, comfortable place to stay,” decided Laurent, who hadn’t so much as glanced at their surroundings since Damen had first breached the gap between them. 

“You’re two feet from a beehive, actually,” said Damen, who was already hauling Laurent back to his feet. “Also, we’re right out in the open,” Damen added apologetically. “We’ll stop as soon as we find somewhere a little more suitable.”

But the whole area around them was so sparsely wooded that there was simply no defensible position nearby. 

“We have to at least wait until we find some cover,” Damen begged when Laurent stumbled again.

I can’t, Laurent didn’t say. Damen probably knew what he was thinking regardless, based on the way Laurent was rocking his hips mindlessly against his own palm, which he’d shoved into the gap where he hadn’t bothered to refasten his pants, knowing they’d have to come off altogether soon enough, given the speed with which things were progressing.

Finally, the silence and the pressure to keep moving forward both stretched Laurent's forbearance too far. “I’m sorry –”

“No,” Damen cut him off. “You’ve nothing to apologise for. You’re right, we’ll stop.”

Laurent couldn’t fight it anymore when his instincts told him to immediately sink to his knees with his pants hastily shoved down. 

“Hang on,” Damen said when the slightest hint of an impatient huff slipped past Laurent’s lips despite his best intentions. At least it didn’t sound plaintive, Laurent thought. Damen grunted as he struggled to tie Ragenard to one of the few nearby trees that was thick and sturdy enough to not snap under his inevitable struggles to free himself.

As soon as Damen’s hands were free, Laurent gestured him over to his side almost wildly, for he couldn’t seem to contort himself enough to get his fingers deep enough to do anything for the burning need by himself. 

“I’m here,” Damen said, and most of the tension rushed from Laurent’s body when two of Damen’s fingers pressed in alongside his own. 

“You have to –”

“I know,” Damen breathed, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.

Damen didn’t replace his fingers with his cock the way Laurent desperately needed, though, so Laurent had to doubt that he really did know what Laurent had been going to say after all. 

Well if Damen wouldn’t voluntarily give him more, Laurent would just have to do his best to take what he needed instead. Laurent thrust determinedly into the hand that Damen had wrapped firmly around him while the fingers of Damen's other hand worked against the sweet spot inside him. Even without the fullness that Laurent craved, Damen was talented enough at interpreting the shifting of Laurent’s hips under his ministrations that it was almost satisfying enough. Almost.

Don’t stop, Laurent distantly thought, an endless repetition inside his head. At least, he hoped it remained in the privacy of his mind; he’d be embarrassed if Damen caught him desperately chanting such a thing, never mind that he’d been determined that Ragenard would hear nothing of the sort from him. 

That was when Damen urgently said, “Someone’s coming.”

A hysterical part of Laurent wanted to laugh and admit ‘yes, finally’, for although it had taken a while, now he was barely hanging on by a thread. But he wasn’t quite far gone enough that he couldn’t hear the horse hooves and wagon wheels approaching over his soft panting breaths, at least once Damen pointed it out. 

Damen dragged Laurent’s clothes into some semblance of order, at least if one used a loose definition of ‘order’, and pulled him to his feet once more. He was halfway to dragging the two of them away from the path when Laurent suddenly started laughing after all. He tugged himself out of Damen’s grasp so that he could turn fully around. Damen had to reach out and steady him when Laurent swayed in place. 

“What are you... no way,” Damen said when he figured out why Laurent had suddenly decided that waving down the approaching caravan of wagons was a better idea than retreating from them. 

“Charls!” Laurent called out, practically giggling. He wasn’t sure if his giddy reaction was due to the drug or surprise or the effects of having barely repressed his unresolved arousal. 

“What are the odds?” Damen said, disbelieving.

“With our bizarre version of luck? Apparently high.”

“He’s an Alpha, remember,” Damen warned. 

“Don’t tell me that you don’t think that you could take him if it came down to it?” Laurent teased, demonstratively squeezing Damen’s bicep, which probably had the same circumference as Charls's thigh. “And it would seem more obvious than ever now that we can’t just stay here on the side of the road were anyone could clearly happen upon us. Tell me, how else do you propose that we could keep moving while still being able to deal with my heat? Alpha or not, Charls is our best bet.”

Damen sighed in concession as the horses drawing the wagons stopped and Charls climbed down from his spring seat. He walked towards them with his arms thrown out in welcome. They might have been long-lost brothers judging by Charls's expression, not barely-acquainted men who met under dubious circumstances on the road once many months ago. 

As soon as he drew close enough, though, Charls was brought up short. 

“You’re –” Charls began, sounding alarmed. 

Damen bared his teeth threateningly at Charls's proximity. He might as well have gone for his sword, based on Charls’s sudden reactive paleness.

“– in Akielos,” Charls concluded weakly in place of the obviously intended words: ‘in heat'. He took a cautious step back from Laurent, and then another when that apparently wasn’t enough to mollify Damen. Nervously glancing in Damen’s direction, Charls settled for pinching his nose closed, as if that would be enough to entirely stop Laurent’s pheromones from affecting him. If it were that simple, Laurent would have experienced a lot less worry since he'd presented as an Omega. 

“We require some assistance, if you’ve time to spare,” Laurent managed to say, trying not to squirm in place. He'd been so close just a minute ago that not touching himself now was a massive effort. “It would seem that we’re in a tight spot, as you see, and are some distance from where we’re supposed to be staying.”

“I’d say so!” Charls agreed. “Your village is some thousand miles or more north of here, isn't it? I mean, I know you like for these things to seem authentic, but having your husband drag you across the border just so he can more believably act the part of the Akielon invader really is taking things too far, don’t you think?”

“Obviously I said as much to him as well, but he just gets so far into the character that it’s difficult to reason with him sometimes,” Laurent lamented. 

Charls and Damen both went red enough that it was visible even on Damen’s dark skin, let alone Charls's.

“Why is there an Alpha tied up over there?” Charls suddenly asked, scandalised, having obviously just noticed Ragenard still secured some twenty feet away. Charls's voice dropped slightly in volume in a poor effort to prevent Damen from overhearing as he said: “I can’t imagine your husband approves of you keeping another Alpha in reserve.”

“Oh, I’ve never required anyone else, believe me. The fool currently strapped to the tree trunk is an attempted kidnapper. It’s only fair that we’ve temporarily abducted him instead, don’t you think?”

“I... suppose. But he’s bleeding,” Charls pointed out. 

“Just a little. My knife barely nicked his hand,” Laurent said casually. “It’s fine. It’s only his head I need intact, anyway. He has information we require.”

Charls visibly swallowed. 

“He deserves more than just a tiny surface wound,” Damen said darkly. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Charls said, sounding anything but. He showed no signs of running for his life from them, though. On the contrary, Charls said, “I’d be happy to help you safely get wherever you’re going, of course, but Guilliame and I are on our way to trade with Aegina before everyone, ourselves included, travels to Marlas for the Ascension. So you can understand that we’re on something of a tight schedule.”

“No need to go out of your way on our account,” Laurent said as smoothly as if he weren’t on the verge of twitching out of his own skin. “We would be grateful if we could simply ride along with you to Aegina.”

“Oh! But... Well, we don’t exactly have the kind of privacy that you would require at such a time,” said Charls uncomfortable. He came across as so apologetic that Laurent thought that he might really be sorry that he couldn’t offer them better accommodations, rather than, as another man would be doing under the circumstances, simply trying to find a way of not having to help them without being overly rude.

“You have mostly closed-in wagons,” Damen said. “We can make that work for us. At least it’s better than the alternative.”

Guilliame protested, “They’re all full of fabrics for trade.”

“Not a problem,” Damen said brusquely. “This should cover the contents of one wagon as well as the inconvenience of not being able to stop in proper accommodations for the few days it might take before we can safely be in the midst of other people.” Damen unceremoniously dumped a bag containing a large pile of gold into Charls’s palm with the top open so he could see that he held more than just copper sols. While Charls was still juggling the weight of it, Damen also started shedding every adornment he wore, except the treasured royal pin at the shoulder of his chiton. Though Laurent didn't doubt that Damen would’ve given that up as well if it were necessary to buy Laurent’s safety on the road. Even without it, though, Charls was already rendered wide-eyed by the number of trinkets and coins now almost spilling out of his cupped palms.

“This is far too generous,” Charls protested.

“Right now, transport and relative safety are worth much more to me,” Damen countered, and set about conveying Ragenard from his tree to being tied firmly to the wagon second from the front, apparently certain that Charls would agree to the terms. 

Charls, in fact, was putting Damen’s offerings into a strongbox, a sign that they more or less had a deal. He probably couldn’t afford to turn down such a deal, even with all the pitfalls involved in it. Though Charls did confess quietly to Laurent, “I'm not sure what he’s told you about how he makes his living, but I'm fairly certain that your husband is secretly a thief.”

“He’s stolen many things over the years, even from me,” Laurent said truthfully, “but nothing with a monetary value attached. Never fear; the gold was obtained honestly. You’re not part of any wrongdoing by accepting it.”

Charls shook his head. “I don’t know. A somewhat shady individual in an inn offered me a shockingly high amount for the knife you gave me when we first met; apparently it rightly belonged to the Crown Prince of Vere, if you can believe that. And some of the items he just handed me just now bear the symbol of the Akielon throne. More than just being a thief, he’s courting a charge of treason if he’s caught at it.”

“Oh, he was already accused of that,” Laurent said with a shudder disguised as a shrug.

Charls blinked. “And he was found innocent?” he asked uncertainly. 

Laurent’s only reply was an enigmatic smile. Technically Damen hadn’t been, since there’d never been any kind of trial. 

For a long moment, Laurent thought that he’d pushed Charls’s good-natured acceptance too far with that little truth, but even then Charls still didn’t tell Damen to stop unloading bolts of fabric from the wagon that was pulling up the rear, furthest from those at the front of the wagon-train where the Alphas other than Damen himself would be located. 

Laurent caught himself staring in awe at Damen’s muscles as he worked. That would be distracting enough even without his heat tempting him to just tackle Damen to the ground so that Laurent could take full advantage of those muscles. With that extra incentive, Laurent couldn’t focus on anything else. His legs felt weak from it

Guilliame, on the other hand, was also gaping at the sight, but rather than looking admiring, he was making a face at the way the silks were being tossed into the dirt like they were torn and useless rags. 

“Leave some cloth in there,” Laurent called out to Damen as Laurent lounged against the wheel of the wagon in what looked like a casual slouch but was really the inability to hold himself up any longer without support. “Obviously there’s no point in having nothing but hard wooden floor in there when there’s such quality material to make the ride more comfortable.”

The compliment seemed to placate Guilliame slightly, not to mention that it made Charls practically glow with pride. 

Though still Charls sighed seconds later. “It’s only a pity that we won’t be able to sell all of this to the Kyros of Aegina. It would have been easier to establish a permanent trading contract with our full wares on offer.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Laurent assured him. He could hear the strain in his own voice, but he doubted that Charls could pick it out as well. “Before you leave Marlas after the Ascension, I think you’ll find that you’ll end up with lucrative contracts with the Kings of both Vere and Akielos. Most of the kyroi and lords are likely to seek you out rather than the other way around once word of that spreads.”

Charls looked sceptical. “That seems an unlikely turn of events. You don’t mean to tell me that you fancy yourself a seer? I didn’t take you for the type.”

“I’m many things that you wouldn’t predict,” Laurent said. 

Damen cleared his throat loudly and, once he had their attention, indicated to the mostly-empty wagon he’d finished preparing for their use. 

His coiled muscles proclaimed him to be on the verge of tossing Laurent over his shoulder and hauling him in inside so that they could have their way with each other. That look likely helped to sell the barbarian role-playing story, at least. 

Laurent shivered at the prospect of somewhere he could finally lie down properly with Damen. It was an enticing enough thought at this stage that he could found himself caring less and less that they would have an even larger audience than they’d had thus far. The wagon covers were, after all, hardly sound- or scent-proof, and a few wagon lengths provided no great distance between them. 

Clearly Damen’s thoughts were tracing a similar line, for Damen announced to Charls and Guilliame just as they were about to duck inside, “I have a sword. And he has a knife that he just loves using on Alphas. Just so you know; in case it starts seeming like a good idea to try to come back here during our travels, you understand.”

Charls blanched, then reached for some thick cloth to cover his nose once more. Damen narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, then nodded sharply and ushered Laurent into the wagon ahead of him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Laurent accused as the wagon eventually jerked into motion around them.

Damen pushed Laurent back against a soft mound of silk. “So are you. Did you have to tell him that I practically abducted you?”

Laurent whispered, so as not to be overheard, “Would you prefer that he instead knew that he had the rulers of two kingdoms about to fuck each other ravenously in his wagon, only a scant thirty feet or so away from him?”

Damen grimaced. “I’d rather not have to fuck you in a merchant’s wagon at all.”

“Better than out in the open by the roadside, or in the dirt against something that could barely be called a cave, for that matter.”

“That’s debatable,” said Damen. “You might recall that I at least had you all to myself in that cave.”

“I’m all yours here as well,” Laurent promised with a slight flush. “I already have everything I need during my heat right here in this wagon.” He reached unsteadily for Damen so that there could be no confusion about Laurent’s meaning.

Damen used that strength that had made Laurent nearly forget himself a few minutes ago to draw Laurent up off the silk-lined floor of the wagon into a kiss. That simultaneously made it easier for him to push Laurent’s pants down, revealing the lower half of his body to Damen’s mercies.

It barely took a minute of Damen’s strong hands on him to send Laurent gasping and shuddering once more. His vision nearly whited out, and it took a long while for him to even slightly come back to himself. 

Laurent didn’t at all recall the disappearance of the remainder of his clothing, a sure indication that this heat was the worst he’d experienced thus far, and it wasn’t even yet at its peak. Laurent had a slightly clearer recognition of Damen then practically tearing his own chiton off so that they could be skin to skin, but that was likely only because such displays had never failed to gain Laurent’s attention no matter the circumstances.

Laurent thought he must have lost more time after that, though, for he next was aware of the feel of Damen hard against his inner thigh, so close to where Laurent wanted him. The fine sheen of sweat covering Laurent’s heat-flushed chest made it simple for their aligned bodies to slide against each other in an approximation of fucking. Laurent wondered for a moment why Damen wasn’t progressing to the real thing already. Laurent obviously didn’t need any teasing lead-up by this point. 

“Wait,” Laurent panted, experiencing a fleeting moment of clarity. “I’m in heat.”

Damen buried his face in Laurent’s neck and rumbled his pleased agreement to that fact. The feel of Damen’s lips tracing the dip of his throat distracted Laurent from the point he’d been trying to make. 

When he felt Damen’s erection slide along the underside of Laurent’s cock and then further onwards, though, Laurent remembered to push him away. 

“You can’t fuck me while I’m in heat,” Laurent reminded both of them, thankfully sounding more sure about that than he felt. 

Damen blinked, as if he were coming out of a haze himself. He slowly, reluctantly, shifted his hips slightly away from Laurent’s. “Sorry. You’re even harder to resist than usual.”

“I think he used too much of the drug on me,” Laurent admitted. “Just... try to remember not to go too far.” It went unsaid that Laurent wasn’t sure that he could do so himself. This was only going to get worse in the next day or so.

Damen nodded seriously. “I will,” he promised.

When he reached for Laurent’s hips once more, Damen pointedly redirected his attentions towards pleasuring Laurent with his mouth, clearly needing that distance to remain more conscious of himself. Laurent couldn’t say that the change did much to improve his own control for some time later Laurent distantly heard himself repeatedly begging Damen to fuck him, and to knot him. That was the last relatively clear moment of awareness he had for quite some time. 

Laurent eventually blinked and found himself lying sprawled, exhausted, half across Damen’s chest, sipping the water from a cup of water that Damen was holding up to his mouth. Someone must have pushed the water through the wagon flaps during a rest stop. 

There was a moment of panic when Laurent realised that his heat was winding down, meaning he couldn’t remember what had happened for the hours on end it would have taken for the drug to run its course. He could have done anything, with only Damen’s self-control to hold him back. 

Laurent grabbed for some of the bunched cloth under his back to cover himself, as if Damen hadn’t seen his naked body a hundred or more times by now. It made him feel slightly better to have a slight barrier between them in this exact moment.

“We didn’t...” Laurent started to ask, but he realised that he didn’t really need a direct answer. His previous heat had provided him with some experience of how his body felt after taking something about as large as a knot. He might not have actually remembered the experience of the last however many hours that had passed, but the aches of his body would have told the story nonetheless. 

And even apart from that, Laurent had to admit that he trusted Damen to take care of him even when he couldn’t do it himself. Damen had yet to let Laurent down, especially when he made a point of promising to do something. He’d said he wouldn’t fuck Laurent, so of course he hadn’t. 

“No, we didn’t,” Damen affirmed, though it was said in the kind of strained way that suggested that it had probably been a near thing. Either way, they’d still managed to make it through this attempt to break them apart without being worse for it. 

“Thank you.”

As if he were testing the waters, Damen tentatively mentioned, “But you should know that you’d have had nothing to fear even if we did get too carried away. I know how you and your kingdom feel about these things, but if there were the possibility of a child, I'd marry you long before any questions of legitimacy could be posed.”

“You’d want to marry me out of obligation? Lovely,” Laurent commented sardonically.

Damen surveyed him seriously and told him, “Don’t pretend that you aren’t aware that I'm dying to marry you no matter what, in a heartbeat, just as soon as you’re of an age to agree without me having to beg permission from someone who has no proper right to give or withhold their acceptance on your behalf anyway.” He paused for a moment, then added, “That would be equally true even if there wasn't a child, ever.”

“Am I that obvious?” Laurent asked tiredly. 

“Only to me,” Damen said. “You would never let it show in front of anyone else, but I’ve seen how you go out of your way to avoid the topic. And I know that you’ve always worried that people would be less willing to follow you if you acted more traditionally like an Omega.”

If only that were Laurent’s only concern about this. Once that might have been enough to decide him, yes, but he knew by now that Damen would do whatever it took to make sure Laurent didn’t lose the people’s trust or respect. 

“I always knew what I was getting into,” Damen continued. “I just want you however I can have you. How we are now is enough.”

It was a lovely sentiment, but was still an incredibly foolish thing to say, even by Damen’s standards.

Laurent said, “The heat scent must have made your brains turn to liquid, if you really think that."

"It doesn't affect me _that_ much," Damen protested. 

Laurent raised his eyebrows and deliberately looked down at the physical proof that Damen was very much affected right then.

"Well that's the effect you always have on me, heat or not," Damen countered. “Don’t think this is a whim, or a decision I’m making with my dick, or whatever else you’d like to accuse me of.”

He definitely did sound like he was entirely serious. But Damen surely must have grasped how much of their future was riding on an heir eventually being born. With the exception of people like Ragenard and his employers, as well as a few pockets of resistance to the alliance on the border, most people in their kingdoms were at least on their way to accepting that they’d be permanently united. That wouldn’t be the case if they realised that there would be no one to take over the joint throne in a few decades at most. The people wouldn’t want to submit to such drastic changes when they’d likely just be thrown into turmoil again soon enough.

And that _would_ undoubtedly be the result. Neither of them had any family remaining, at least not with a strong enough claim to their thrones to forestall another civil war should it come to that. And both kingdoms were aware that Damen had sworn off other lovers and was in the process of disbanding slavery, so everyone would know that if an heir didn’t come from Laurent, none would be forthcoming at all. Not that it would satisfy the Veretians even if Damen were willing to turn to a woman or another Omega. They wouldn’t accept a bastard Akielon on a throne that was half theirs. If Laurent didn’t bear a child under those circumstances, he’d be dooming Damen’s kingdom to upheaval as well as his own. 

That knowledge didn’t stop Laurent from wanting to throw caution to the wind and take what he wanted regardless of the consequences. He couldn’t imagine ever being ready to let Damen go, even for his own good or the good of their countries. But whatever his naysayers in Akielos might think, Laurent had never intended to tie Damen to him under false pretences or to Damen’s detriment. And he didn’t want their people to suffer for their relationship either. 

Laurent said, “When I hear you say that you’d want this even without an heir, I can’t believe that you’ve really thought this through fully. You can’t tell me that you’re happy with the idea that you’d never be allowed to knot me during heat, let alone that you don’t care at all that I’d deprive you of having children of your own.”

Damen tipped Laurent’s chin so that their eyes met. “You wouldn’t be depriving me of anything. I want only as many children as you’re willing to give me, and no more. If that’s none, so be it.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Laurent said softly, his voice near to cracking. “You’ve seen how my line is tainted. It should end with me. But I wouldn’t have yours end with you. You’d be a wonderful father.”

Damen frowned, looking almost annoyed. “Is _that_ what's brought this on? Laurent, your uncle was the exception, not the rule. You’re nothing like him, and neither would your children be. They’d be just like you.”

Laurent grimaced. “That’s hardly a comfort. You’re determined to see the best in me, I know, but I’m not something to be aspired to. As much as I came to hate Uncle, that wasn’t always the case. Even... during. I still wanted him to love me, even knowing what that entailed. There’s something not right about me, that I could feel like that. What if...” Laurent couldn’t finish the thought. 

Damen looked properly angry, then, but Laurent finally knew him well enough to be certain that the feeling wasn’t actually directed at Laurent himself. “You were a child who wanted his last surviving family member to show you some small amount of affection, whatever the cost. It’s not unlike how I wanted to believe in Kastor, despite everything. It doesn’t make you ‘tainted’, any more than it makes your family unworthy of being continued. It simply makes you human.”

“That’s not something that I’m often accused of being,” Laurent mused. 

“It’s not a bad thing to be, you know. You can be fallible without being like your uncle. And anyway, I’ve seen how you treat the kind of children your uncle would've wanted to ruin. That first time, while we were stuck in Delpha, was the moment when I realised how serious I was about spending my whole life by your side.”

Laurent shook his head. “I’ve always been good at acting how others want me to for short durations. Why should that apply only to adults? But I have no template for how a father figure is supposed to act except my own father's indifference and my uncle’s sickness. I won’t risk treating a child like either of them did to me.”

“Of course you have a better example to lean upon,” Damen argued. “Auguste was a grown man while you were just a child still. He might as well have raised you in many ways, from what I hear. And you can’t tell me that your line is irrevocably tainted when it most recently produced your brother, who inspired the devotion of your entire kingdom for good reason, and then you, quite simply the truest man I’ve ever known.” 

Finally, Damen added, “It’s your decision, one way or the other. But I’d be honoured beyond measure to see you with our children.”

Laurent, for a moment too overwhelmed by that for words, simply twined their fingers. Damen pressed a kiss to his flushed cheek. 

“I wish I could give you that,” said Laurent.

“Give _us_ that, you mean,” Damen insisted. “If it’s not for you as much as for me or for our kingdoms, I don’t want it at all. But there’s no rush, whatever the people of Vere and Akielos think about it, or whatever our bodies try to tell us. Whether you think it wise or not, I’d choose a life with you even if we could never have that. And I’d spend a thousand heats with you doing nothing more than lying here together just like this, if you preferred that.”

At least partly to distract from the emotions arising from Damen’s words, Laurent pointedly glanced wryly around the interior of the borrowed wagon. 

“All right, maybe not _just_ like this,” Damen conceded.

Laurent took the temporary reprieve from the seriousness of the situation and said, “You know, it occurs to me now that this might not have been the perfect venue for a heat, but we might just have stumbled onto the perfect way to deal with the reported slave trafficking into Patras. Supposed legitimate merchants intending to use some unknown route through Aegina, wasn’t it? And here we have our own merchant heading in that direction who has so far been exceedingly obliging. I think a slight detour is in order.”

“It occurs to you _now_ ,” Damen repeated, his lips quirking slightly, giving away his amusement. “Not the moment Charls mentioned he was heading towards Aegina? Or were you thinking about how to make him escort us there the moment you saw him, before we even knew of his destination?”

“I was half mad from heat by then,” Laurent pointed out as if affronted. “Don't you think I had more pressing things to focus on?”

Damen’s expression made it clear that he didn’t believe a word of it. Even so, he said, sounding long-suffering, “I suppose we still have a few weeks before we’re technically due in Marlas.” Pointedly, he added, “We’ve plenty of time in front of us,” and Laurent knew he wasn’t really talking about whether they’d risk missing the Ascension, not that it could actually go ahead without Laurent there anyway. 

“And you did promise me weeks alone away from our respective courts, after all,” Laurent reminded Damen, prompting a rueful laugh and a nod.

A few weeks of travel with little to do but think. A few weeks before Laurent was twenty-one and newly-crowned King, finally able to make decisions for himself about things like marriage and children without anyone else’s input. 

Laurent supposed he'd better take full advantage of this borrowed time.


	4. Chapter 4

Laurent, recently ascended King of Vere and Acquitart, sixth of his name, had the distinct feeling that, despite his standing and his titles, he might be about to be unceremoniously rejected by an old soldier turned bull-headed bannerman. 

“So I’m supposed to lend my support to Delpha being permanently made into common territory?” Makedon summed up.

It was Laurent's true wish that all of Vere and Akielos would be ‘common territory' eventually. However Makedon, like many of their people, clearly wasn’t ready for that, and Laurent wasn’t even sure that desire was realistic under the circumstances in any case. Laurent didn’t intend to potentially hurt his cause by pushing for too much too fast, especially when he might be doing so for no good reason. 

“My Council and King Damianos’s have both agreed that shared governance of the border lands is the most effective way to move forward from the troubles between our kingdoms.”

“Do I seem like the type to be swayed by the opinions of soft Council men?” Makedon asked sharply, though his lips twitched slightly, as though he actually found such an insinuation more amusing than aggravating.

“No,” Laurent admitted. “I would expect you to be convinced more by the wellbeing of the men and women in the region you’ve spent decades defending, should you and your men not be there to help keep the peace in such a time of upheaval.”

Makedon shook his head. “I forget sometimes that you’re still a snake in the grass.”

“Oh, I don’t hide in the grass anymore,” Laurent said. “I’m the snake already wrapped around your neck, ready to strangle you.”

Makedon let out a bark of a laugh. “You think I couldn’t wrestle you loose, if it came to that? You can fight with a sword, no doubt, but you’re still a skinny stripling.”

“Perhaps,” acknowledged Laurent. “But I’ve been practising my wrestling skills recently. I wouldn’t mind putting that to the test.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your wrestling practice. That’s how rumours are started, you know. People wonder how long this alliance can last when it seems you’re playing the King of Akielos and the Kyros of Ios against each other.”

Laurent’s smile was tight. “I hope such rumours don’t reach Nikandros’s ears. The knowledge that anyone thinks he might be bedding me would probably make him violently ill.”

“Which is how I personally know that it’s not true,” Makedon said. “But not everyone here is so certain that Nikandros loves his King far too well to ever risk that for any pretty face, especially yours. The talk might as well be fact for a lot of people. If you’re not careful, your little empire might crumble before you’ve even got the foundation stones in place.”

It was easy to forget, between drunken banquets and too-casual-bordering-on-paternal conversations with Kings, that Makedon could be relatively sharp and observant when he wanted. There was a reason he’d survived and thrived as long as he had, after all. Laurent should have known that he didn’t need to be informed of Laurent’s plans for the future to already have a fair idea what they were, and of course that would only make him kick in his heels even harder. 

Damen could have ordered Makedon instead, of course, but he was basically in denial that a large battle-ready army was immediately necessary in what should ideally be neutral grounds. Damen preferred to believe that the only people opposing the unification had been Ragenard and the small group of Veretian courtiers whose names had spilled from Ragenard’s mouth as soon as Laurent had time to apply the right type of pressure. When Laurent’s Ascension had proceeded without incident, amidst a cheering crowd of thousands of Veretians and Akielons alike, Damen had taken it as proof that their troubles were behind them. He was always so overly optimistic.

It was lucky he had Laurent, who knew better than to rely on everything being all peace and prosperity going forward. Makedon also clearly suspected that that wouldn’t be the case. 

“For now,” Laurent said, “I’m less concerned about planning for years into the future than I am with making sure our people can’t tear each other apart if the mood does sour.”

Darkly, Makedon said, “You say ‘our’, but I hear ‘my’. I can see how this will work, if I agree. You'll install me under one of your own people, so that my army listens to orders that I’m not really the one giving.”

“No,” Laurent replied. “The military would answer to no one but King Damianos and myself, equally. That’s the only way this can work. Otherwise one kingdom will suspect the other is taking a larger share of the governance of the region than is their due.”

“You don’t think the Veretians will think that anyway, if there’s an Akielon General with his Akielon army policing the place?” Makedon asked. 

Slyly, Laurent said, “Not the ones who’ve seen us hunting or drinking together. King Damianos himself gripes that you prefer me.”

Makedon’s grin was a little too hard-edged to be wholly genuine, but nonetheless he concluded pointedly, “The Veretians think I’m under your thumb, do they? Well I suppose I'd be in good company, the way I hear it; if my King gets on his knees in service to you, obviously I can do no less, is that it?”

Laurent sighed. Apparently the rumours about his alone time with Nikandros weren’t the only ones going around. He was going to kill Pallas. Or Lazar, more likely, for Laurent was under no illusions about how the information would have really become public. 

“My partnership with King Damianos is one of equality,” Laurent said, certainly not for the first time. 

“‘Partnership’,” Makedon mused. “There's your problem right there. The people have been expecting a wedding announcement any day now for months. The heavens only know that that boy would’ve had you at the alter a thousand times since he retook Akielos, and probably even before then, if only you’d agreed to it. The more time passes without a marriage, the more people wonder what’s holding you back.”

“Things aren’t quite so simple.”

Makedon waved a hand dismissively. “I know you Veretians like to over-complicate everything – you only need to look at your clothes to see that – but what good does it do to treat something as obvious as the marriage of a couple tits over ass in love like something that needs to be analysed for nearly a whole year?”

Laurent didn’t answer. Makedon would have probably been stunned if he had. They’d talked enough in recent months that Makedon knew better than to expect a complete and decipherable answer from Laurent when it was a topic he preferred not to discuss.

Instead, Laurent said, “It seems to me that you’re the one who's over-complicating the issue at hand. Will you continue to stand as General of your army in Delfeur once the region is declared as much Veretian as Akielon, or not?”

Makedon signed the official papers easily enough in the end. When Laurent emerged from the room with them, Nikandros shook his head ruefully. 

“You didn’t think that he would agree?” Laurent challenged.

“No,” Nikandros said, “that’s the worst part: I knew he would. I would feel better about this whole situation if you didn’t have _everyone_ involved wrapped so firmly around you little finger.”

“By the sounds of it, _you’re_ definitely still not there,” Laurent pointed out.

Nikandros sighed. “Aren’t I? Then why, when we disagree, does it always go your way?”

Laurent shrugged. “Because my way is obviously the right one.”

Nikandros said, “I would count myself lucky that I’m currently serving as Kyros of Ios rather than Delpha now that you’ll have at least half of the rule of it, but you have almost the same amount of control in our capital as your own, so I suppose it makes little difference either way.”

“You’d be bored if you weren’t fighting me, or fighting Damen about me,” Laurent said with a smirk. “Imagine if he actually always listened to you. How dreadfully dull.”

“Yes, how sad that I wouldn’t be going grey-haired already,” said Nikandros, who still had a full head of dark hair, whatever he might claim.

“Don’t say that too loud,” Laurent cautioned. “People will accuse you of being as vain as I supposedly am.”

Nikandros apparently caught sight of Nicaise before Laurent did, because the first Laurent knew of his approach was Nikandros saying, “Speaking of vain...”

Nicaise, however, wasn’t looking as much like a peacock as usual right then. He had clearly just emerged from his rooms and made his way straight to Laurent without pause. He looked wide-eyed and still half asleep, his oversized sleep tunic making him appear smaller and somehow almost inconsequential. 

Usually Nicaise would have been out manipulating courtiers at this still-early hour, not in bed. Something had to be amiss. 

“There’s something really wrong,” Nicaise said, sounding as young as Laurent had ever heard him, even when he’d first come to court at the age of eleven. “I’ve felt strange all day, and thought I was just coming down with something, but now...”

Nikandros reeled back suddenly as Nicaise reached Laurent’s side. Nikandros scratched thoughtlessly at the wall behind him, as if he intended to burrow through it. Such behaviour was particularly strange given that Nikandros had always made it a point of not showing weakness in front of Nicaise any more than he would in front of Laurent. 

It took Laurent a shocked moment of surveying Nikandros’s wide eyes and shallow breathing to realise what could have both elicited such a reaction and made Nicaise feel as though he were ill. 

Laurent himself had never sensed another Omega in heat near him, but now that he was searching for it, he could identify the sweeter than usual tinge in the air. Clearly Nikandros, an Alpha, could smell it far more pungently, and was affected by it in ways that Laurent never would be. 

“Leave,” Laurent instructed Nikandros, who for once didn’t seem to have a problem with Laurent ordering him around. In fact, he practically jumped to comply. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nicaise said as he watched Nikandros’s strange behaviour. The words were weaker than they’d usually have been, coming out of Nicaise’s foul mouth. “I’m not dying at all, am I? I’m in heat.”

“So it would appear,” Laurent agreed. 

“Well don’t just stand there, then,” said Nicaise. “Get me back to my room. And pull out your damn knife; I know there’s one in your boot. After all your talk about protecting me from the fate the Regent wanted for me after I presented, if I get assaulted by Alphas the first time I go into heat, especially when you’re _right here_ , I’m never going to let you forget it.”

“That’s not going to happen,” swore Laurent, who would not let Nicaise suffer through any more of the same bad experiences as Laurent had now that he had the power to stop it from happening.

They hurried somewhat anxiously through the halls, but it turned out that they needn’t have worried. The path back to the remodelled royal wing of the castle at Marlas, which Laurent and Damen currently shared with Nicaise, was empty.

Laurent suspected that Nikandros had probably traced this path ahead of them and cleared it out. Laurent preferred not to feel particularly grateful to Nikandros, as a rule, but Laurent didn’t always get exactly what he wanted. 

“I’m sorry,” Laurent said softly just before they reached Nicaise’s door. He knew that saying those words would probably only tick Nicaise off, but he felt that it needed saying nonetheless. In fact, part of Laurent longed to lie alongside Nicaise in bed and properly comfort him, the way Laurent was convinced Auguste would have done for him during his own first heat if he’d been able, but Nicaise would appreciate that even less.

Laurent settled for saying, “I’d hoped that it would take longer for you, as it did for me.”

Nicaise, however, was in some ways stronger, and certainly less traumatised, than Laurent had been at his age, so even the fact that they shared a similar cadre of experiences apparently wasn’t enough to ensure a similar outcome. Which was a shame, because the only positive thing that had come out of losing his family and being subjected to Uncle’s treatment, as far as Laurent was concerned, was the postponement of his heat until he was nineteen. 

“It’s fine,” Nicaise said flippantly. “It just didn't occur to me that that’s what this was, since I thought it would still be about another year off. But until recently I’d expected to spend my first heat with Alphas taking turns fucking me in a brothel, so I can deal with it just fine if it’s on my own. After all, you managed, prior to subjecting yourself to an Alpha. And it seems you might as well have continued dealing with it on your own since then as well, since the lack of baby barbarians crawling underfoot would attest that you’ve been a little too much of a good boy during heat.”

“Perhaps I’ve been using the herbs the Akielon Omegas use,” Laurent said. 

Nicaise huffed. “You? Leave something like that up to any amount of chance? I don’t think so.”

Nicaise knew him too well. While Laurent had made sure the preventative measures were just as readily available to Veretian Omegas as they’d been to Akielons as soon as he’d been made aware of the fact that they were fairly safe to use, he still wasn’t quite willing to trust his own fate to them. It wasn’t that Omegas using such herbs in Akielos tended to grow ill, as with the supposedly equivalent measures previously used in Vere. There was simply still a relatively significant incidence of Omegas getting pregnant during heat even while on the herbs. They were better than nothing, since they shifted the odds, but they were still hardly perfect. 

If Laurent were to make an active decision to ignore his concerns, that would be one thing. But he wasn’t about to let a child just happen to him by accident because he was one of the unlucky ones for whom the herbs didn't quite do their job. 

Apparently Nicaise felt much the same, for he added, “Unlike you, I wouldn’t say no to some of those herbs right now. I have no intention of taking unnecessary chances. I’m sure I don’t strike you as parent material, do I?”

Laurent grimaced. The idea was alarming. Far more so, Laurent noted with a thoughtful frown, than the idea of himself with a child. Compared to Nicaise, Laurent could almost imagine himself in that position after all. 

“Luckily,” Laurent said, “You'll still have a long while before you have to concern yourself with that prospect. I’ll arrange for some Betas to guard your door. No Alphas will get close enough to worry about, this time or any heat in future unless you find one you actually want to spend it with.”

“Fuck Betas,” Nicaise said. “What good will they be to me if a couple of heat-mad Alphas twice their size try to burst in? No, you spent the better part of a year going into heat every few months with a pack of Alpha soldiers around you; there must be at least a few that you’d trust to keep a lid on their libidos during an Omega’s heat. I mean, you could at least send me that Akielon Alpha who walked in on you getting bent over in your little library the other day. The way he apparently talked about it as if he was scarred for life, I doubt he could get it up for any Omega, even in heat. And surely if there’s one then there must be a couple of other defective Alphas milling around as well.”

It was true that Pallas’s taste did seem to run exclusively to Alphas, and of late even more exclusively to Lazar. That was probably half the reason he was still alive to tell the tale. Damen would have reacted far more harshly to any other Alpha who'd laid eyes on Laurent naked and thrusting wantonly back against Damen’s tongue.

Laurent might, under other circumstances, have shown some measure of embarrassment that the story of their exploits on the study settee had circulated around far enough to reach the ears of a boy who had only just turned fifteen. Nicaise, however, was hardly the average green youth. Laurent knew for a fact that he himself had started worse rumours about Laurent just because he was bored. And there probably wasn’t much palace gossip, particularly of the lewd variety, that Nicaise didn’t make absolutely sure he was apprised of. 

When Laurent took too long to reply, Nicaise snapped, “Well? Go and get me some burly but neutered guards!”

“Fine,” Laurent said, amused at Nicaise ordering him around as if he were the King, not Laurent. “I suppose it’s a decent idea as long as we can gather enough of them that the rest can handle it if one of the Alphas reacts to your scent after all. And I’d promise to cut off their knots if any Alphas do try anything with you, but I’m fairly certain you’d beat me to it anyway.”

Nicaise snorted. “Please. If it were left up to me, they’d be begging for something as simple as castration.”

Laurent called on Enguerran to track down the kind of men Nicaise had asked for. Thankfully Enguerran didn’t seem to think it would be a problem. 

“I was initially surprised that you never made such a request for yourself,” Enguerran said, “except that you always had Alpha protection anyway, didn’t you?” Enguerran paused, and then delicately said, “And speaking of which, should I send a half dozen or so Betas to the hall outside your own rooms shortly?”

Laurent frowned. “No. I doubt I’ll even be in there, since I imagine I’ll be in negotiations for much of the night.”

Enguerran looked strangely confused by that, but apparently not so much that he was determined to further question Laurent. 

Laurent dismissed him to go deal with recruiting Nicaise’s guards. Laurent then took his opportunity to dart up to the other end of the long hallway to his own bedroom. 

When Laurent entered the Kings' suite and closed the door behind him, Damen inhaled heavily and sat up straighter in his chair, perking up like an oversized puppy scenting a treat in Laurent’s pocket. Laurent rolled his eyes. 

“Oh calm down, I was just in Nicaise’s room. It’s his first heat you’re smelling, not me. It’s barely been more than two months since my last heat, remember?”

Damen raised his eyebrows disbelievingly and invited himself right up inside Laurent’s personal space. Another man would have earned himself a few broken bones for getting so close to Laurent without his express permission. With Damen, though, he found himself actually leaning into the attention. His body even shook slightly, his legs feeling weak at Damen’s nearness. 

Damn it. Of course Damen had to be right. And no wonder Enguerran had wanted to post guards. 

Damen concluded, “Heat or no heat, I don’t find the smell of a boy who's barely old enough to be fully presenting appetising. This kind of reaction is most definitely for you, always.” Laurent tried not to seem pleased by that. Damen added, “Perhaps the pheromones from Nicaise’s heat set yours off or something.”

Or perhaps it was simply that Laurent’s body was still trying to make the point that he’d so far failed to bring about the intended outcome of heat, and so now it was insisting that he try again as soon as possible. Perhaps, in that case, Damen hadn’t deserved to be blamed multiple times for Laurent’s heat coming early. Not that Laurent was about to apologise or anything, obviously.

“Still, I don’t see why you’re so excited. It’s not as if you’re going to knot me this time.”

“I told you, I don’t care about that,” Damen reminded him. “I’m just happy that for once I can spend three days only concentrating on giving you pleasure over and over without worrying that we’re about to be attacked or feeling guilty that I should be doing my other duties instead.”

Laurent couldn’t quite withhold his smile fully. “Perhaps you’re forgetting that we have guests.”

Damen’s face abruptly darkened. “You’re not going near Torveld smelling like upcoming heat.”

“Oh?” Laurent asked, the smile gone. “Am I not?”

“Laurent,” Damen groaned. “Torveld _just yesterday_ asked you to marry him. While I was right there in the room. If he does that again with you going into heat, I’m not going to be able to resist making it into an incident that will forever ruin our relationship with Patras.”

“Torveld merely said that it was a pity that by all accounts I wasn't yet ready for marriage. He didn’t actually ask me to marry _him_ ,” Laurent corrected, though truthfully Torveld probably would have mentioned something along exactly those lines moments later if Laurent hadn’t tactfully diverted the conversation. “And Torveld is no more likely to attack me just because he’s an Alpha than Charls was. That turned out all right, didn’t it?”

“You seem to have amassed a vast collection of Alphas who I’m not supposed to worry about you being near during heat.”

“You might recall that you were the one who told me that my greatest strength would be my ability to get Alphas on my side. Regretting that now?” Laurent taunted. “Either way, there’s an easy solution to the problem of your obvious propensity to let jealousy get the better of you around my heat: it’s _you_ who shouldn’t go to meet with the Patran delegation, not me.”

“What?” Damen said flatly.

“I can probably negotiate a better trade deal for Delfeur without you there, anyway. My relationship with Patras is closer than yours.”

“It’s too close. That’s the point.”

Summoning a truly monumental amount of patience, if he did say so himself, Laurent said, “Damen. Have I ever given you real reason to believe that I’d prefer another Alpha – or anyone at all, for that matter – to you?”

“No,” Damen admitted. 

“And do you doubt my ability to deal with various types of unwanted advances?” 

“Obviously not,” Damen said, for Laurent had practically made a sport of either manipulating or fighting his way out of any situation where an Alpha might be feeling overly entitled to Laurent’s company.

“Then either you can come along to the trade meeting or not, but I will most definitely be there.”

Given that, there was really no question as to whether Damen would be there as well. 

Torveld was diplomatic enough that he neither made any suggestive comments nor tried to get too close when he caught a whiff of Laurent. However, it was clear he was still greatly affected, for he barely took his soft gaze off Laurent the entire time.

Laurent could practically hear Damen grinding his teeth when Torveld asked to speak to Laurent alone before they came to terms. 

“You’re an intelligent and insightful man, King Laurent. You must be aware that I had certain hopes, after the first time we met,” Torveld began.

“I had a fair idea, yes,” Laurent said. 

“And now you are relatively free from strife within your country, and it appears you are still free in other ways as well, at least for the time being. I hoped you would consider a different kind of alliance between our kingdoms than the one being discussed officially here today.”

“Is your agreement to the trading route contingent on that?” Laurent asked frankly. 

Torveld looked horrified by the idea. “Of course not! I came here to negotiate for Patras, and I would not dishonour my kingdom by turning this into something so selfish. I merely...” He swallowed heavily and started again. “I was simply surprised and pleased to find you as yet not married or betrothed when I arrived. The talk about you and the Akielon King led me to believe that would not be the case. So I’d regret it forever if I didn’t speak while I still have the chance.”

Laurent sighed. “On both of our meetings you’ve struck me as an honourable and honest man. I wish to be honest with you in turn: presuming I ever marry at all, it will be to King Damianos. I am young, yes, but my heart is not burdened with the indecision of youth. That we are not married already is due only to practical concerns for the consequences to our kingdoms.”

“Oh,” was all Torveld said, sounding let down but not heart-broken. That was fair, Laurent considered, for whatever Torveld himself might think, he could not possibly be in love with Laurent. He didn’t even _know_ Laurent. They'd met only twice, and both times Laurent had needed Torveld’s support and had acted accordingly. 

Laurent’s sharp edges and flaws would slice a man like Torveld to ribbons if he ever fully experienced them.

Damen knew those parts of him better than anyone. Perhaps better than Laurent himself, in some cases. And Damen wanted him, not in spite of those things, but as much because of them as because of what most would consider Laurent’s far better qualities. 

“I’m glad that you found someone you feel deeply for, at least,” Torveld said gamely. 

“You will as well,” Laurent promised. “Someone who makes you happier than I could.”

Torveld shook his head. “I’m sure it hasn’t escaped you that I’m no longer a young, virile man like your Akielon King. Perhaps if I was going to settle down at all, it would have already happened. I may not be a king, but I was close enough to the throne that there have always been practical limitations as to who I could marry. There are few Omegas of status in Patras, you see – perhaps even less than in Vere – and I can’t imagine spending my remaining years with a woman.”

“The way I hear it,” Laurent said, “that would have been before the King managed to produce quite so many heirs, adequately securing his line to the extent that, you'll forgive me for saying, you're rather unlikely to ever sit on the throne yourself. So perhaps you should talk to him about the matter again now. As your brother, I’m sure he values your happiness more than having a sixth heir to the throne.”

As Damen valued Laurent’s happiness far too much to let the possibility of never having an heir at all get in the way of what they both wanted. 

Laurent imagined being Torveld’s age, and alone, never having tied himself with Damen out of fear of what their kingdoms would think and do if things didn’t turn out perfectly, and out of fear of what he himself might do if things actually _did_ progress the way everyone else expected them to. 

Makedon was right after all. It really should be very straight-forward.

Torveld thanked him for the sentiment, but Laurent barely heard him. He made his excuses, hoping they were polite enough, though he couldn’t be sure. His mind was elsewhere. 

When he arrived back into the meeting room, he didn’t take his seat, but rather grabbed Damen by the arm and dragged him, unresisting despite his confusion.

As soon as he found a deserted offshoot of the main hallway to pull Damen into with him, Laurent announced, “Let’s get married.”

Damen blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Now?” he asked. 

Laurent laughed. “No, you dolt, not now. I have no desire to deal with the uproar if I eloped with you instead of having a proper ceremony fit for Kings.”

“But soon?” Damen asked hopefully. “Preferably before you change your mind.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Laurent promised. “This is what I want, and has been for nearly a year now. I’ve just decided not to let the other concerns keep getting in the way. We deserve to be happy, not grow old wishing we could have done things differently.”

“What on earth did you discuss with Torveld to bring this about?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” Laurent admitted. “It just all became plainer to me. And I remembered what you said about regrets once, and I can finally see how true it is; I think that I’d regret not taking this chance far more than I could ever regret it if we did so and things eventually went wrong.”

“Is it just marriage you’re talking about now?” Damen asked tentatively. It was clear what he was getting at.

“I...” Laurent started.

“No,” Damen quickly said, “I shouldn’t have asked that now, when your instincts are off kilter. I said I wouldn’t push, and I meant it. As for the rest, obviously there’s no question about my answer. Let’s get married as soon as possible. Nothing would make me happier.”

“Nothing? Not even if I told you that I informed Torveld in no uncertain terms that I would only ever marry you and no other?”

Damen smiled. “Well I won’t deny that that’s a nice bonus.”

“Try not to rub it in too much when we go back to the negotiations,” Laurent said. 

“Do we have to?” Damen practically whined. “I’d much rather take this time to celebrate.”

“And the people of Delfeur would rather be well fed and properly stocked with wood and metal for building. I may be willing to put us first for this one thing, but that doesn’t mean I’ll toss aside important negotiations just so we can ‘celebrate'.”

Damen sighed but followed him back to the negotiation table, where everyone was awaiting them, looking intrigued about where they’d disappeared to. Though judging by some of their knowing expressions, many of them thought that Laurent and Damen had ducked off for a quick fuck. 

Thankfully, the group of Patran officials, even Torveld, didn’t seem overly put off by the Veretian and Akielon Kings’ apparent lapse in professionalism, and the trade agreement that they managed to strike ended up being generous enough on both sides that Laurent was pleased with it.

“You look happier, suddenly,” Torveld said before he was escorted with his countrymen to the delegates' guest quarters for the night. “I doubt I’d have thought to approach you if you’d looked this way when I arrived here.”

“If I was discontented before, it was my own fault. But I came to a decision, partly thanks to you,” Laurent admitted. 

Torveld was able to muster up a smile, for all that it seemed slightly forced. “I hope that means that I’ll be invited to the wedding.”

“If I get my way, yes,” Laurent said. “Though he has a jealous streak, so I don’t expect easy agreement.”

“Something tells me that you always do get your way in the end, though.”

Looking at Damen, who himself was looking at Torveld with slightly less suspicion than he would have if they’d been standing this close a few hours ago, Laurent said, “Only because I have people who do everything in their power to make sure I do.”

“You’re a lucky man.”

Surprised, Laurent had to admit, “Yes, it would seem that I really am.”

He found Damen soon after, and held out his hand, uncaring that there were people watching and listening. He didn’t mind so much if they gossiped about this. 

“I find that I’m in the mood to celebrate after all,” Laurent announced, and Damen took his cue to practically drag Laurent away towards their apartments. 

He let Damen fall upon him almost before the door was shut behind them. Laurent was pressed against the wall, the front of his body covered completely by Damen’s body just the way he liked, so that even though both of Damen’s arms were otherwise in use, it still felt as though he were embracing Laurent. 

Laurent was unresisting as Damen tilted Laurent’s chin up so that their lips met. The shared heat of their mouths was, however, cut short when Laurent’s head jerked back slightly so that he could choke in a sharp breath at the feeling of Damen’s palm pressing against Laurent’s rapidly hardening dick. 

If anyone else was there to bear witness, Laurent would have been embarrassed about the fact that the laces of his pants weren’t even fully loosened before the feel of Damen’s mouth sucking possessive marks into his neck combined with the circular motions he traced against Laurent’s still-clothed hardness brought Laurent, gasping, to completion. With Damen, though, Laurent knew there was no need for shame. Damen actually found it erotic that Laurent was still, even after the better part of a year spent exploring each other in and out of bed, so deeply affected by Damen that even the lightest of his touches could often be enough. 

Besides, with his and Laurent’s intertwined fingers working him determinedly, it took Damen barely two minutes to follow, so he couldn’t exactly boast his comparative stamina this time. 

“What?” Damen asked as Laurent straightened his clothing instead of removing it properly.

“I have to check on Nicaise,” Laurent explained.

“Really? Now? No wonder I hate that kid,” Damen huffed. 

“You don’t really.”

“He definitely hates me,” Damen countered.

Laurent shrugged as if acknowledging the point, though privately he doubted the truth of that as well. 

Now that he was paying more attention to the details rather than hustling through with a far different purpose clouding his mind, Laurent found that there were four Alphas and twelve Betas lining the hall up the end where Nicaise’s room was situated. Laurent might have found it strange that Enguerran had assigned more guards for Nicaise’s heat than Laurent ever had nearby for his own, but the guards happened to be blocking off access to Laurent’s and Damen’s rooms as well, as the hallway terminated at their door. Apparently Enguerran had found a way to assign him the guards he’d mentioned without technically ignoring Laurent’s instruction to not do so. 

No one questioned it when Laurent pushed his way through Nicaise’s door and shut it firmly behind him before too much of the scent from inside could make its way into the hallway. 

Unwilling to catch a glimpse of anything he shouldn’t, Laurent purposely didn’t look in Nicaise’s direction as he asked, “Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah, a knot that doesn’t have an Alpha attached to it. I swear I’m going to commission a whole trunk of toys before the next heat gets me.”

Laurent grimaced. “Lovely. Thank you for that mental picture.”

“You asked.”

“I meant if you needed some water or something.”

“You look you could use some yourself,” Nicaise said when he apparently caught sight of the slight flush of Laurent’s skin, for he seemed to be growing hotter by the minute. “Oh, ha!” he said, realisation striking him. “At least I’m not the only one who has to suffer through this shit for the next few days.”

“Damen suggested that your heat might have set off mine,” said Laurent.

Nicaise snickered. “Glad to contribute to your misery. Though to be honest, you look annoyingly not upset.”

“Mmm,” Laurent agreed, a smile playing at his mouth. “I’m happy, actually. It turns out that I’m getting married.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s about time!” Nicaise said. “Now stop rubbing your domestic bliss in my face and get out of here.”

“I just wanted you to be one of the first to know.”

Nicaise made a face like he found that sentiment disgusting, but Laurent could tell he was secretly pleased.

“I’ll send a Beta with some water,” Laurent said instead of goodbye.

“Save it for an icy cold bath to douse yourself in, since it’s unfair that you look so pleased with the world right now.”

When Laurent eventually slipped back into his room, having done everything he could to make sure that Nicaise was looked after while Laurent was indisposed, it was to find Damen already sleeping. He’d either given up on Laurent returning any time soon or otherwise had unconsciously been seeking him out once sleep found him, for he was sprawled half across Laurent’s side of the bed. 

Laurent found that he didn’t mind. It was simple enough to lift Damen’s arm and insert himself into the middle of the tangle of long limbs. Damen didn’t even stir except to sleepily tug Laurent more tightly against him. 

Laurent fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

It must have barely faded through the night, for Laurent felt as though he’d woken still practically grinning. He tried to imagine that happening five years ago, or even not that much more than one year prior, and couldn’t. 

Then he tried to imagine waking up this same way another five years into the future, and the picture of it was crystal clear to him. 

“I was nearly about to wake you up,” Damen said softly. He wore a smile of his own. 

“Impatient,” Laurent chastised without any heat behind it. 

“With you? Always. Aren’t you?”

Laurent answered in actions, reaching for Damen to pull him more completely on top of Laurent. He adored the feeling of Damen’s weight pinning him down. He wouldn’t have been able to say that over a year ago either. Being with Damen had made him comfortable with so many things that he’d thought he could never want or have. 

“Show me exactly how impatient you are,” Laurent instructed. 

Ironically, it took Damen nearly two hours to even allow Laurent to reach for him, while in the meantime he’d made Laurent spill for him multiple times.”

“I thought you said you were impatient,” Laurent said as he matched the movement of his hand to the way Damen was stroking Laurent's cock almost lazily. Neither of them actually protested the speed, though, even though it was more along the lines of what Laurent preferred on a normal morning without any meetings to rush off to, not hours into his heat. 

“Impatient to touch you,” Damen clarified. 

“You’re such a romantic fool,” Laurent said. 

“You’re the one who wants to marry me,” Damen pointed out with a grin. 

“Only if you stop trying to make love to me with words and start doing it with actions.”

“Like this?” Damen asked, pressing two fingers inside Laurent without the pace of his other hand faltering in the slightest.

“I find that I’m the one who’s impatient now,” said Laurent pointedly. Thankfully, Damen was happy to remedy that. 

Laurent buried his face against Damen’s neck and whispered words into his skin as he reached his peak yet again. 

“I do too,” said Damen, who wasn’t supposed to have heard. “So much. Not that you could have doubted it. You know that I would do anything for you.”

Laurent’s face burned red with the embarrassment of having been caught out. He chose to divert attention from it by saying, “Well in that case, there is something in particular that I wanted to try. And it might keep some of the strain from your hands for a while.”

“Oh?” Damen prompted, sounding intrigued rather than looking as though something momentous had just happened. Perhaps, for Damen, it hadn’t. For Damen was right, of course. Laurent _had_ already known exactly how Damen felt. And so, surely, had Damen known that Laurent returned it. They hadn't really needed for it to be spoken.

“You can’t knot me during heat,” Laurent said. “But that doesn’t mean there can’t be any penetration.”

Damen looked confused for a moment, but only until Laurent brought his fingers to somewhere he’d never really touched at length in the many months they’d been together. 

It was Damen’s turn to try unsuccessfully to hide his blushes, though admittedly the redness didn’t show on his darker skin half as much as on Laurent’s. 

Without moving his hand, Laurent raised his eyebrows, both a question and a challenge.

Damen nodded, a nervous jerk.

Laurent removed his fingers, but only to run them over his own upper thighs where he could gather a liberal amount of slick. Then he returned his fingertips to his target and circled slightly, teasing. 

“If you want me to do more,” Laurent said, applying only the barest amount of pressure, “you’ll have to ask for it.”

“You’re cruel,” Damen said. 

“And yet you want to marry me.”

“Absolutely,” Damen agreed. He said nothing further, though, willingly allowing Laurent to simply continue the enticingly minimal touches. 

Perhaps he was banking on being able to stubbornly hold out for longer than Laurent. If so, it was a good bet, for Laurent eventually broke and pressed two fingers inside after recoating them, this time with proper oil. He made a mental note to prove to Damen that Laurent wouldn’t be outlasted outside of heat. For now, though, Laurent was as eager to move on as if he’d been the one suffering such light touches at length. He might as well have been. He’d been working himself up as much as Damen.

And yet Laurent knew he had to go slow, however desperate he was to progress this. Damen wasn’t used to this like Laurent was, and certainly _his_ body hadn’t spent the past day or so specifically gearing up for it. 

Laurent’s patience was helped by his enjoyment of the breathy sounds that Damen was making. That was unusual for him. Laurent tended to be the one who held back all but the tiniest clues of how he was feeling, at least outside of heat when he was capable of greater control, while Damen was more unabashedly vocal. Something about the way Laurent worked at him, first with two fingers and then three, had made him fall strangely quiet. Nerves, Laurent realised, and set out to obliterate them. 

So Damen was only quiet until Laurent found the particular spot inside him that made him let out a massive yelp and jerk his hips thoughtlessly backwards into Laurent’s hand. He massaged lightly against that same place, turning Damen into a puddle of whimpers, before deciding that there would be no better sign than this that Damen was ready. 

Laurent removed his fingers, to a chorus of protesting sounds. Those noises cut themselves off when he pressed himself to where his fingers had just vacated. 

“Yes?” Laurent checked. 

Damen, his face red once again, wasn’t quite to the point of begging. But the eager nod of his head suggested that he wouldn’t have been far off. 

Luckily for him, by that stage Laurent had little desire to keep drawing this out. He was just this side of begging himself. 

Laurent’s head lolled backwards as he pressed the rest of his body forwards, the air all rushing from his lungs in a single long push. 

For a horrifying moment, Laurent suspected that after all of that build-up, he would come as soon as he felt the grip of Damen all around him. It was overwhelming, so much so that Laurent couldn’t help but hope that he might one day be given an opportunity to find out whether it would be different outside of heat, when his body was less desperate from the start. 

But as much as it felt like he was only a second or two from collapsing with pleasure, and as much as he was swiftly becoming addicted to the feeling of Damen thrusting slowly but willingly back against him, not just letting him in but wordlessly begging for more of him, Laurent somehow held on. 

And on. And on. 

His fingernails eventually raked against the silk sheets ineffectually, and he let out an annoyed grunt, as if lack of purchase for his hands was the reason he was stuck in this excruciatingly pleasant limbo. 

“What?” Damen asked breathlessly. He sounded as though he might be almost as close to breaking as Laurent. Closer, probably, for Laurent suspected that he himself could continue for quite some time without plunging over the edge instead of just continuing to skirt it. 

“This isn't enough,” Laurent admitted, frustrated. “It would seem that I still need your fingers after all.”

Laurent felt Damen shaking against him. It wasn’t quite the kind of involuntary trembling that Laurent knew sometimes struck his own body when Damen had particularly overwhelmed him. For a moment he was alarmed, fearing he’d somehow in his inexperience managed to do something to cause Damen pain. But then he realised, when he heard a stifled noise, that it wasn’t due to pain at all. Damen was instead barely suppressing laughter.

“How flexible do you think I am?” Damen chuckled. He demonstratively reached behind himself, the ball of his palm landing on Laurent’s hipbone, his long fingers extending across the nearby swell of muscle. It was clear that he wasn’t able to stretch his arm around further without risking an injury to his shoulder. 

Laurent huffed, now verging on laughter himself, "Well what's the point of having such ridiculously long arms if you can't even use them properly?"

“Oh I can use them,” said Damen. In a burst of motion, he rolled them both over onto their sides, and Laurent fell loose from him. 

“Hey, I was still enjoying that,” he protested. Torturous though it might have been, that didn’t mean Laurent wanted it to end so abruptly.

“So was I,” Damen confessed, sounding mildly surprised by that fact. “So there’s nothing stopping us from exploring that option again once your heat has passed, right?” An anticipatory shiver struck Laurent at the idea that Damen would want that again, and not just as a means of selflessly attempting to help Laurent through heat. 

“For now, though,” Damen continued, “it sounds like there’s something you’d enjoy even more. And I have the feeling that I’ll get some pleasure from it too.” He pushed himself up so he hovered over Laurent.

The shortness of Laurent’s breath and the way his back arched as soon as Damen scissored his fingers inside him gave away how much he’d needed the change. 

Damen didn’t need to touch Laurent’s erection again to finish him off. He was already hurtling towards that end without the additional stimulation. But Damen insisted on playing with the skin at the head of his cock until a cry forced itself from Laurent’s throat. When he came back to himself enough to open his eyes, Laurent immediately saw what the aim of that extra touch had been. 

Damen brought his fingers, which were coated in Laurent’s spend, to his lips. Based on his expression, he might instead have been tasting the most exquisite sweetmeats on offer in Vere. 

“You see?” said Damen. “I enjoyed that part as well.”

“Quiet, you,” Laurent said without really meaning it. “I’m trying to bask here.”

“Does that mean I get a few minutes' break?” Damen asked jokingly. 

“No,” Laurent decided. “Come here. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Or ever, I hope,” Damen said seriously.

“That too,” Laurent agreed.

When he pulled Damen in for a languorous kiss, not particularly caring that he would be tasting himself more than Damen at first, Damen was only too willing to be led.


	5. Chapter 5

Laurent would have preferred not to start his morning with the feeling of manacles snapping shut around his wrists, of course, but he was still fairly unsurprised when that was nonetheless how his day began.

Honestly, given his history, what else could he have expected of the morning before his wedding? 

“I’d guess that this would be the point at which I should ask after your demands,” Laurent remarked flippantly, “but I somehow doubt this is anything as civil as an attempted ransom.”

“I think you know what I want.”

“You can’t have wanted it _that_ much. I mean, so far you’ve only thrown three minor nobles, a failing merchant and one soldier at me. And none of them was exactly high calibre; Ragenard gave the others up in minutes, and then they were all gathered up and executed for treason in the brief time it took me to travel back to Marlas,” Laurent commented. “Considering that you apparently encouraged them to believe that your intention was to claim me as your Omega rather than telling them the truth, it would seem that even those few men didn’t earn your confidence.”

“Perhaps, unlike some people, I simply know better than to rely on brainless brutes to look after my interests.”

“Or perhaps,” Laurent suggested, “you’ve found any potential base of support recently crumbling from under your feet. After all, here you are, doing your own dirty work instead of sending more disposable lackeys. What’s the matter? Did even your own sons not want to assist you? Or did they do their part already by bribing the men I left at Fortaine to keep you under house arrest? I’d assumed no one would side with the kind of man who'd whore out his own pre-pubescent son. But then, I’ve unfortunately found that, with enough money, a man can fairly easily secure the temporary loyalty of many otherwise low-paid soldiers, regardless of that man’s character.”

Guion sneered. “My supposed sins seem mild compared with our King whoring out our entire kingdom in exchange for a thick knot.”

“Yes, yes, I’m a disgrace to my family and my country, handing Vere over to my brother’s killer so that he can finally finish the job of destroying us. I’ve heard it all before,” Laurent said dismissively. “Though I’ve certainly heard it less since Vere really began to prosper again after I solidified my alliance with King Damianos. I doubt that helped you in recruiting people to your cause.”

“Not everywhere in Vere has benefitted,” Guion said slyly. 

“Yes, it’s true that it’s been difficult to make much headway on getting vital resources into certain pockets of the country, especially close to Fortaine. And I'm sure you can imagine my disappointment when I came down to the border some months ago to find that it wasn’t the Akielons needlessly warmongering, but the Veretians. I assume I have you to thank for both of those things. You might not have been able to get them to help you kill their own King, but I’m sure it was easy to get the border villages to oppose anything they see as related to the Akielons, whom they have more reason to hate than most Veretians.”

“It barely even took a few words whispered in the right ears,” said Guion, falsely pretending at modesty. 

Laurent’s lips quirked. “Oh, I know all about how easy it is to disperse information that could be harmful to others. For example, it was simple enough to have a few of my people circulate the idea that some strange Akielon superstition about the intended couple not seeing each other the night before the wedding meant that I’d be alone in here for hours on end last night and this morning. I have to admit that it was difficult to come up with an excuse to keep my husband-to-be away, though, since obviously _he’s_ aware that no such tradition exists in Akielos.”

“You...”

“Set a trap for you? Obviously. Though I wasn’t entirely sure that you would actually spring it,” Laurent confessed, “since it was difficult to believe that you’d been able to engineer an attempt on my life when you should have been still properly locked away inside your former fortress. But it cost me very little to attempt to draw you out to get proof of your involvement. All I had to do was move the wedding up by a week to force your hand. After all, even you wouldn’t want to kill me if it meant leaving the throne to my new Akielon husband in lieu of any blood heirs.”

Guion’s teeth were visibly clenched. “It hardly matters if you claim to have seen it coming. I’m still here, inches from killing you, and you’re not married yet.”

“Yes, congratulations. You’re here, in a room with only one escape, in the middle of a castle I control. And, more importantly, you’re surrounded by my Guard, who will be aware by now that you’re here, and who know what the purpose for your visit must be, since I informed them of the possibility and told them to let you through. If you meant to stage this as a tragic accident, or perhaps as some Akielon soldiers turning against me, so that you could reclaim power for yourself and your family in the confusion of the aftermath, you may want to rethink your strategy.”

There was abruptly a knock on the door, and Laurent called out, “Come in,” before Guion could stop him. 

“ _Exalted_ ,” said Pallas, shocked, when he walked in on the tableau of Laurent chained up in bed, with an Alpha that definitely wasn’t his future husband looming over him. 

“You can pick your lower jaw up off the ground; this is hardly the most compromising position you’ve ever seen me in,” Laurent reminded Pallas. “Now, if you could just turn back around and go tell Orlant that we’re done in here a few minutes earlier than anticipated, I’d appreciate it.”

“Don’t,” Guion warned as Pallas frowned uncertainly but still made to step back out of the room. “Stay where you are, or your King's slut dies.”

A year ago Pallas’s Veretian wouldn’t have been anywhere near advanced enough to have picked up on much more than just Guion’s harsh tone. Laurent supposed he had Lazar to thank for the fact that Pallas now clearly understood every word, stopping dead in his tracks, eyes even wider than they’d been a moment ago. 

A knife was pressing at Laurent’s ribcage now, lending some credence to Guion’s threat. Although it must have been out of Pallas’s line of sight, Pallas nonetheless seemed to grasp the immediacy of the danger. 

“Exalted?”

“Do you take your orders from _him_ or me?” Laurent asked. 

“You, of course, but –”

“Then do as I instructed. I have this handled.”

Reluctantly, Pallas backed away, waiting until the last possible moment to take his eyes off Guion. 

Before Guion could shout after Pallas to protest against his order being ignored, Laurent’s foot caught Guion hard on the underside of his chin, snapping his jaw shut almost hard enough to break teeth. He was lucky to have not bitten his own tongue off. He wasn’t lucky enough, though, to avoid his head rocking backward so violently that he lost his balance and stumbled backwards skull-first into the wall. 

“You should have known better than to leave my legs unchained,” Laurent said conversationally. “I’m told that I’m pleasantly flexible.”

Guion’s only response to that was a pained groan. He made no move to get up and get away before the reinforcements arrived, apparently too stunned to even try. It was just as well, for Laurent’s Guard had been just waiting for the go-ahead to swarm the rooms, and Guion wouldn’t have been quick enough to do anything other than run straight into them anyway. 

When they arrived however, the Guard wasn’t led by Orlant as expected. 

“Did you get lost on the way to a Council meeting, or did you forget that you’re no longer head of my Guard?” Laurent asked.

“Neither,” Enguerran said. “Orlant is currently indisposed with keeping King Damianos out of the way. Or I should say, keeping him ‘occupied’. Orlant doubted that it would have gone well if he’d stumbled in on this.”

Laurent made a displeased face. “Considering that you allowed Pallas to stumble upon it instead, I’m sure he’ll be running off to inform his King about it now anyway.”

“I’d be only too happy to deal with this scum before King Damianos can come bursting in and kill him without a trial,” offered Enguerran.

“Yes, I can tell that the idea of that pleases you. If you wanted to return to a position that involves a little more action, you only needed to say.”

“Being on your Council is an honour,” Enguerran said carefully. 

“A boring honour,” Laurent amended for him. 

“I could actually use a little less of this particular kind of excitement,” Enguerran said, gesturing pointedly at Laurent’s chains. “But it’s true that acting solely as an advisor isn’t quite what I’m used to.”

As if to prove the point, Enguerran automatically used his old authority as Captain to usher a group of guards to drag Guion away, presumably down to the holding cells. Unfortunately, a quick pat down before he was taken uncovered that he wasn’t actually carrying the key to Laurent’s chains on him, if such a key existed at all.

Pushing down his frustration, Laurent commented, “If you want a different kind of relief for your boredom, I imagine that we’ll be making our way to the snake pit shortly.”

“You’re returning to Arles?” Enguerran asked, surprised. “I thought that you’d remain in Marlas until we could be sure that everything was entirely settled after the wedding.”

“It will probably never be entirely settled,” Laurent predicted. “Not when there are those like Guion who are unhappy with the position the alliance has left them in, or who are just generally too ambitious for their own good. But I'd rather take the chance that trouble might brew in Delfeur in my absence than to leave the courtiers who’ve remained at Arles alone to plan an uprising for too much longer. And such a visit, if it’s to be made at all, must take place soon, since I anticipate that I’ll shortly be unable to make the long journey there and back for quite some time.”

“I did wonder, when you announced the wedding, if you recalled what our traditions entailed. I thought that you’d been... hesitant about that particular issue, shall we say.”

Clearly Damen hadn’t been the only one paying attention to Laurent’s reticence to discuss it. 

“I’ve recently decided to take a chance on happiness,” Laurent said softly.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re doing it for yourself rather than just giving in to the people’s need for reassurance about the future,” Enguerran said with a small but genuine smile. 

“If you’re talking about the wedding, I’m pleased to hear that too,” announced Damen from the doorway. “Though I’m a lot less happy to find you chained to a bed right now.” He glowered at Enguerran, as if he were the one who’d attached those chains to Laurent’s wrists. 

“Jealous that you didn’t put me in the chains yourself this time?” Laurent asked. “We could always hang onto them for later, if you’re feeling nostalgic.”

“Not for tonight, though,” Enguerran blurted out, before grimacing slightly at the scowl that adorned Damen’s face in response to that. 

“That’s hardly any of your business.” Damen’s tone was dangerous. 

“Unfortunately, on this one particular night, it is.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Damen said darkly. 

“Ah,” Laurent said lazily, “I might have left out a key part of the process when I explained the requirements for a Veretian royal wedding. Oops.” Laurent knew that he didn’t sound particularly sorry. 

“Oops?” Damen prompted. 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be much more embarrassing than the whole palace undoubtedly finding out that a blacksmith had to come to our bed to pry me out of chains on the morning of our wedding.”

Strangely, Damen didn’t look reassured by that. 

Even so, Damen didn’t seem to be experiencing any trepidation during the ceremony. It was as if they weren’t doing something as permanent as pledging the rest of their lives to each other in front of some thousands of witnesses, most of whom seemed to be still griping about having nearly missed the occasion because the wedding date had been shifted forward at the last moment. 

Laurent knew that he didn’t look nervous either, but that was more because he was a better actor than Damen than because he felt no amount of hesitance towards what was to come. Even so, his nerves had little to do with the public ceremony itself. After all, why should even the crowd of expectant thousands who’d come to witness this symbol of the joining of their two kingdoms make him feel nervous when Laurent was only focused on the one man directly in front of him. 

The ceremony ended with he and Damen joining hands and kissing in front of their spectators, to thunderous applause instead of the shock and derision that they might have received a year ago. When their lips parted, it occurred to Laurent that they were finally married.

Almost, he reminded himself. 

A trusted servant approached Laurent just before he joined the procession of those who’d been invited to move towards the banquet hall. Laurent shuddered with distaste when he saw what that servant was carrying. He took a long moment before grudgingly accepting the phial. He even considered what would happen if he dashed the filled glass against the stone floor in the middle of the post-wedding celebrations. Sadly, it wasn’t worth it, since he knew that the pink-hued liquid was a necessity, albeit an unwelcome one. If he ruined this batch, the poor servant would only have to scurry off to desperately search for another. 

From beside Laurent, Nicaise took in the sight of the phial with scrunched eyebrows for just a moment before, quick on the uptake as ever, he gave Laurent a truly baleful glare. 

“Oh, really? Must you?” Nicaise asked. 

“Sorry,” Laurent said disingenuously, “clearly I should have asked for your opinion on the presiding Veretian doctrines before complying with them.”

“Clearly, because you have to know that you’re putting yourself in danger if you agree to that idiotic tradition.”

“No one’s going to succeed at attacking me tonight, with all of these soldiers watching my every move,” Laurent reassured him. 

“That’s hardly what I meant. You know that so many things could go wrong over the next months if you do this.” And then, as if he realised that he might have been caught showing concern for Laurent, Nicaise added haughtily, “And if something happens to you, I’ll be out on the streets.” 

“No you wouldn’t be,” Laurent said. “Damen would offer for you and pay for your upkeep if I asked him to.”

Nicaise, though he looked far less scared by that prospect than he once might have, still appeared thoroughly disgusted. 

“Did you ever think I might not want _him_ to have control over me?” he asked Laurent.

Laurent laughed. “I’m not fool enough to believe that anyone controls you, Nicaise, contract or not.”

Nicaise visibly suppressed a pleased reaction.

“Fine,” Nicaise said. “On your own head be it.”

Laurent was fairly certain that was Nicaise’s version of giving his blessing. 

When Laurent finally arrived at the seat beside Damen at the dinner table, he placed his hand over the opening of Damen’s cup of wine just before Damen could raise it to his lips. 

“Tonight will go better if you’re unimpaired,” suggested Laurent. 

“That’s potentially ominous. I wish you’d at least give me a hint as to what’s supposed to happen.”

“You’ve had months to research Veretian traditions,” Laurent pointed out. “You’ve no one to blame but yourself if you didn’t bother doing so.”

“As if you’re aware of all of the Akielon traditions you might ever encounter.”

“Try me,” challenged Laurent. 

Apparently knowing when to concede defeat, Damen let out a frustrated sound. He let himself be distracted moments later, though, when Makedon came up to him to slap him hard on the back in what looked more like a punishment than a congratulations.

When Damen caught Laurent knocking back a drink moments later, once he’d recovered from the teeth-rattling greeting, Damen commented, “So I’m the only one that needs to be sober tonight, is that it?”

All Laurent would say on the matter was: “This isn’t alcoholic.”

Laurent started pressing for them to call it a night not half an hour after that, even though the party around them had barely begun. Damen was obviously keen enough to go off to be alone with his new husband, but a seemingly endless stream of well-wishers kept them not only busy, but often apart, for far too long by Laurent’s reckoning. 

It took nearly two more hours before they were finally allowed to retreat to bed, accompanied by knowing catcalls. Laurent didn’t much care by that point how it looked when he grasped Damen’s hand and practically ran from the banquet room. Even Damen didn’t get a chance to say a word about Laurent’s sudden desperation, as he was tugged towards their rooms with such great speed that it seemed to shock silence into him.

Apparently the servants had at least busied themselves adequately in the additional time it had taken their Kings to get away from the banquet, for the royal quarters had been somewhat transformed since that morning, well beyond just the removal of the manacles from where Guion had attached them to the bed frame. 

The bed was even more sumptuously dressed than usual. Laurent had the feeling that it would have had scattered rose petals across it, were the flowers not out of season. As it was, the blue of the new embellished silk covers was the same shade as Laurent’s banners. The covers looked as though their maker had barely stopped short of embroidering the starburst onto it to complete the effect. Just as well, since that might have been taken as an insult to Laurent’s new Akielon husband. Though in reality, it would have probably just made Damen roll his eyes at the Veretian audacity of it. 

The more striking changes to the room, though, had more to do with the perimeter of the bed than the bed itself. Sheer material hung all the way around in a large oval, ostensibly to curtain the mattress off from the rest of the room, though in reality the mostly transparent sheets of gossamer thin material did little more than offer an unconvincing illusion of privacy. 

The reason for the curtain was obvious enough, given the half dozen chairs dispersed around the bed. 

“What –” Damen started, but cut himself off when there was a sharp rap on the outer door, followed by a short procession of people filing into the room. 

Herode, who had been invited back to Laurent’s Council as soon as the regency had ended upon Laurent’s Ascension, looked wholly unperturbed by the whole thing, as if this were just another day in the office. Chelaut and Jeurre looked slightly more interested in their surroundings, but Laurent thought that it was probably less because they expected to be personally moved by the proceedings than because they must surely have suspected that this would be one of the last important official duties they would take any part in before they were replaced by younger and more loyal members of Laurent’s court.

Vannes, by stark contrast, exhibited eyes sparkling with anticipation and a borderline evil grin. She looked far too pleased with herself and the entire situation. Laurent was half-surprised that she hadn’t brought a pet along with her to better enjoy the ‘festivities’, for all that this was nominally official Council business for her. She’d made no secret of the fact that she had always been disappointed that Laurent wouldn’t engage in the public coupling for which Arles was renowned, and she’d made even less of an attempt to hide that she found Damen’s fighter's physique attractive. She’d surely have tried to jump at this opportunity even if she hadn't been part of his Council.

And then there was Enguerran, who certainly had no interest in Damen’s physique to match Vannes’s. The same lack of regard did not apply to Laurent, of course. And as the only Alpha on the Council, and having the kind of forewarning of what the night would entail that Damen was missing out on, Enguerran was probably sensing what Damen had so far been too distracted to notice. Enguerran’s face was already flushed, though Laurent refused to speculate whether it might be from more than just plain embarrassment at the situation.

“Why are they all _here_?” Damen hissed. He must have been in denial, for he wasn’t a fool. He could hardly fail to draw the correct conclusion from the set-up before them, particularly once the Councillors began seating themselves in the provided chairs. 

“To witness the consummation, of course,” Laurent said, suppressing a smile at Damen’s overly-apparent discomfort. 

Even against his dark skin, it was obvious Damen’s face had gone an even darker red than Enguerran’s. He somewhat resembled the seasonal berries they’d left behind at the table when they’d retreated from it ten minutes ago. The only sound that came out of Damen’s open mouth was some strangled utterance that Laurent took as a request for clarification.

“It's a legal requirement for the wedding of a King or Crown Prince in my country. I thought the same might be true in Akielos, despite your reaction whenever we were observed being intimate together. But when I asked Nikandros if any of your people needed to be present as well, he simply turned a similar shade to how you look now and said that it wasn’t traditional.”

“Nikandros knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Damen asked when he found his voice again, seeming surprised and annoyed in equal measures.

“I asked him not to,” Laurent said. 

“Since when does he do as _you_ ask?”

“You’d be surprised,” said Laurent. “Besides, I think it helped that, after the initial shock wore off, he started to find the whole thing outrageously funny. In fact, he said to tell you that it’s your own fault for falling for a Veretian against his advice.”

“Oh yes, it must have been very amusing,” Damen said sarcastically.

“It definitely is from my perspective.”

“Well it’s no joke from mine. I’m not bedding you in front of your entire Council!”

“That’s a shame,” Laurent said, “since I have no intention of leaving this bed, and the Council won’t leave this room either until they’ve seen the marriage verified. But I suppose if you want to leave me here to writhe around alone, suffering for hours on end while the Council watches _that_ instead...”

“Suffering?” Damen asked. Then he finally, pointedly, leaned forward and breathed in. “For the love of... How does this keep happening at the worst possible times?”

“This time I may have brought it on purposely,” Laurent admitted. 

It appeared to take Damen a long moment to recall their earlier exchange about Laurent’s drink, but he got there in the end. “Really? You took that drug _voluntarily_? You couldn’t even remember what happened for the better part of two days last time. That’s not an experience I thought you’d ever want to repeat.”

“I took a much more controlled dose this time, obviously, since I was actually in control of it. And I didn’t have much of a choice, really, if I wanted to marry you. Veretian law is very clear that, where an Omega’s involved, the King’s marriage isn’t considered valid until he’s witnessed sharing a heat with the Omega. Of course, in past cases the King and the Omega haven’t been one and the same, but I was informed that the requirement still stands. In the eyes of my kingdom, the ceremony earlier this evening is an empty gesture unless we complete this second half of it.”

Damen looked stricken. “So you’re being forced into this?”

Laurent sighed. “You overheard part of a conversation between Enguerran and myself earlier. This is what that was about, not the wedding itself.”

“You actually do want it, then?” Damen’s expression had turned hopeful.

“I would have preferred that it happen under different circumstances, obviously, but it’s probably best that it’s now.” Before he could overthink it again, Laurent didn’t say. “And I wouldn’t have set the wedding date until I was sure that I wanted this part of it as well,” Laurent assured him. 

“We still don’t have to do it like this. It shouldn’t be a show.”

“It's not meant as a performance, as much as official proof. Otherwise how can the kingdoms know that the Kings' consummation occurred at all?”

“The _Kings_ will know,” Damen said, sounding scandalised. “And they have seen you, haven’t they? They can’t imagine that it’s physically possible for a man who's married to you to not take you to bed at the first possible moment.”

“They’ve seen me,” Laurent conceded. “But many of them have also _met_ me. Surely you realise that, without witnesses like this, I could marry a man and either convince or blackmail him into never actually touching me. That’s precisely what I intended to do, if at all possible, back when I believed my father would arrange my marriage. But I’m no longer just the second son, so now the Council must be sure that I can’t pull such tricks.”

Damen muttered, “First your people judged us for falling into bed when we hadn’t, and now they won’t believe it’s occurring unless they see it with their own eyes. Why must you all act so convoluted?”

“It may not make sense to you, but it’s the law.”

“So rewrite it,” Damen huffed. 

“The ink on the records of my ascension to King is barely dry,” Laurent reminded him. “And whatever currency I have to make the people accept change is better spent elsewhere, don’t you think? Or is avoiding a small amount of embarrassment more important to you than the successful unity of our kingdoms?”

Damen rubbed the ball of his hand against his eye tiredly. “You know it’s not. And you’re more important to me than all of that combined. So if it’s what you want...”

Laurent didn’t particularly want it, in fact. He would prefer that it wasn’t a necessity. He may, unlike Damen, have grown up without such an aversion to sex being witnessed by others, but that didn’t mean that he really wanted his own privacy invaded. He had a hard enough time letting himself lose control in front of Damen alone, never mind with other people also present. 

But with the heat-inducing drug burning through his veins, already setting him to twitching and shifting as if that would be anywhere near enough to ease the increasingly uncomfortable feeling of emptiness, Laurent was under no illusions that he would be able to maintain his composure for long, despite their audience. 

Once, he reminded himself. The Council only had to be present while they coupled during Laurent’s heat one time. After that, it would be just him and Damen, the way it should be. 

“It’s what I need to happen,” Laurent said, which wasn’t quite the same as actually wanting it, but it had much the same effect. “Our marriage must be properly affirmed. You know that people have ridiculed and gossiped about me enough over the years. I don’t want them to think for a moment that they can similarly cast aspersions on the legitimacy of our child.”

It was the first time Laurent had so boldly conceded that it was a real possibility. Damen’s evident adoration at those words – ‘ _our child_ ’ – was enough to make Laurent shiver under its weight. 

To distract from that moment of unspoken emotion, Laurent added, “Besides, it’s hardly the first time others have been present while we were together. Pallas, for one, is heartily sick of walking in on us. And I’m fairly certain that Charls is still in a state of shock that those insane men who he had to listen to for hours during heat were actually the Kings of two nations.”

Damen looked rueful. “We'll obviously have to make sure that this is the last time that other people intrude on us in bed.”

Laurent didn't quite believe in superstitions, but even so, he had a strange feeling just then that Damen might have inadvertently cursed them to a lifetime of unintentional exhibitionism. 

Despite his apparent acceptance, Damen still couldn’t seem to resist one last show of how much he disliked the present situation; he turned to Enguerran and warned him, “I will rip your head off if you so much as twitch in his direction.”

Laurent could tell that it took a lot out of Enguerran to push aside his Alpha desire, heightened as it must have been by Laurent’s heat, to meet Damen’s hostility with a proper confrontation. Unlike Damen, though, he managed to fight off the urge. Though apparently his instincts wouldn't quite allow him to bow his head obediently to the King the way he would have under any other circumstances.

Damen turned and pointedly doused as many of the vast amount of candles that had been arranged around the room as he could get away with. It darkened the area enough that the material draped around the bed might almost be enough to protect their dignity after all. Almost. For even if they couldn’t make out the finer details, that wouldn’t stop every person in the room from knowing precisely what was going on at any given moment. There would, of course, be little point in their presence otherwise. 

That knowledge wasn’t anywhere near enough to douse Laurent’s desire to bare himself and get some relief, even if the Council _was_ watching his every move. Obviously sensing Laurent’s growing discomfort, Damen’s fingers aimed their way straight for the laces that confined Laurent’s achingly hard cock. Damen had become remarkably adept at ridding Laurent of even the most formal of his Veretian clothing, so it took him barely two minutes to relieve the pressure, allowing Laurent to take himself in hand. He was unable to muster much self-consciousness even with more than one set of eyes on him.

Damen took advantage of the fact that Laurent was seeing to himself to kneel before him. There he attacked the laces that were trapping Laurent in his boots, and therefore preventing the removal of his trousers. Laurent used his free hand to brush through Damen’s curls for a moment before pointedly directing his head. 

Damen didn’t fight him in the slightest. Without ceasing his efforts with the boot laces, Damen pressed quick teasing kisses to the stretches of skin that were revealed whenever Laurent’s hand moved back down over his length. Damen even placed one final affectionate kiss to the oversensitive head, which made Laurent let out a quiet whining noise despite his intention to let no such reactions slip before their present company. 

With the laces now loosened enough to allow for it, Damen shifted backwards to sit on his feet and tugged each of the boots off unceremoniously, tossing them aside like unwanted impediments. Laurent’s trousers would likely have received similar treatment, except that Damen was clearly distracted by the rolling motion of Laurent’s body as he raised his hips off the silk sheets to assist in their removal. 

It was immediately clear what in particular that action had drawn Damen’s attention to. Damen’s hand quickly found Laurent’s wet hole. He circled for a moment, as if he would draw it out the way he might when Laurent wasn’t under the driving effects of a potent heat inducer. But then two blunt fingers breached Laurent without further preamble, a welcome surprise. Damen had apparently, rightly, anticipated that Laurent needed no more gentle preparation this time. The anticipation itself was enough to have him ready. What Laurent wanted now was precisely what Damen was giving him; a third finger quickly chasing the first two, and a determined focus on penetrating Laurent deep and fast.

No, actually, that wasn’t quite true. What he wanted was more than that. And for once, Laurent knew that he could have it. He only needed to wait a little longer: it was only minutes away now, instead of months, or years, or possibly never. 

Despite most of his attention being otherwise delightfully occupied, Laurent still found himself reaching automatically for the jacket laces at his throat. But then Damen's touch abruptly fell away from where he’d been enjoying it. His hands were instead employed to cup Laurent’s fingers between Damen’s palms, stopping Laurent’s progress. 

“Leave the rest on,” Damen said. 

“That desperate to have me that you can’t wait for my jacket and shirt to come off, are you?” Laurent asked. 

“No, I’m really not,” Damen said. “I’d just much prefer it if our onlookers didn’t see any more of you than absolutely necessary.”

“I’ll overheat like this,” Laurent protested.

“Then you really should adopt the Akielon fashions more often, shouldn’t you. Don’t worry, though; I’ll make it up to you later, once we’re alone,” Damen promised.

Laurent sighed as if Damen was the most ridiculous human being in either of their kingdoms, which was more or less true. He acquiesced nonetheless. 

Damen shucked off his chiton in a matter of moments, apparently deciding that he cared less about the onlookers than he’d previously suggested as long as the Council’s eyes were on _his_ entirely naked body rather than it being Laurent's expanses of pale skin drawing their gazes. 

At that point, it became very obvious that Damen’s claim that he wasn’t at all desperate was true enough.

Even with Laurent’s lower half bared for Damen’s eyes and the rising smell of heat being captured and reflected back at them by the curtains, Damen still appeared almost entirely physically unmoved. 

“Performance anxiety?” Laurent asked almost mockingly. 

“I’m not some Veretian pet, accustomed to displaying my skills for an audience,” Damen pointed out defensively. He pretended at being unaffected by the low titter of laughter around the room that accompanied Laurent’s teasing.

“Just as well,” Laurent said, “for a pet who can’t get hard on command wouldn’t last long in the court at Arles. Although... it occurs to me that you’ve never had a problem with being commanded before, at least when the imperative comes from me instead of my Council. Perhaps we should test that. Suddenly I’m sorry that those chains were removed after all.”

“Laurent...” Damen said, a warning. Laurent could admit that it was asking a lot to have him play such a role in front of others, including another Alpha in front of whom Damen had almost always made a point of exerting his dominance.

Damen had always been willing to go out of his way to help Laurent when he deemed it necessary to prove a point, though. 

Laurent smiled as he rolled them over so that Damen was the one on his back. Damen allowed it, if somewhat more hesitantly than he would usually have acted whenever Laurent took control. 

“Raise your arms above your head and grab the bedframe,” Laurent instructed. “There’s nothing to physically hold you in place, but surely we can rely on the strength of your willpower?”

“But then I won’t be able to touch you anymore,” Damen pointed out. It was likely a poor last-ditch effort to get Laurent to change his mind about this course of action. 

“That’s not a problem. After all, I won’t be settling for your hands this time, will I?”

That reminder of what was to come was enough to finally get a literal rise out of Damen, as well as apparently to secure his agreement. He huffed in a breath and slowly moved as Laurent had asked. 

Getting him the rest of the way to the point of full arousal turned out to be simple enough once Laurent sinuously worked one knee over Damen’s hips. He brushed Damen's cock lightly on the way past until he was fully straddling him, then slowly, intentionally, leaned backwards. Laurent allowed direct contact for several moments before, satisfied with the hardness he felt grinding against him, Laurent suddenly shifted forward to brace himself, teasingly out of reach, against Damen’s heavily-muscled abdomen. 

“Be still,” Laurent ordered when Damen’s hips thrust forward, chasing him. 

Damen complied almost entirely, his only notable movement the clenching of his fingers where they were gripping the dark wood of the bed head. He clearly hoped that that would stop him from mindlessly grabbing at Laurent’s hips to shift him where Damen really wanted him. His vaunted willpower was, after all, currently in question. 

“Good boy,” Laurent said, his voice low. The condescension caused Damen to bite his lip to silence a retort. When his lip fell tantalisingly free, Laurent leaned down to apply his own teeth there lightly, claiming where Damen’s had just been. He sucked at his prize. Damen’s hips to bucked slightly as it deepened into a proper kiss. He was clearly uncomfortable with the effort of holding himself back. 

Laurent was presently only too familiar with that kind of discomfort, for at this point he was also shifting in place in search of relief. The trail of slick that was building up between them, signalling Laurent’s readiness, was enough to make him slip downwards slightly against Damen’s skin as his hips moved of their own accord, putting him ever closer to what he needed.

“If you let go of the bed, I’ll stop,” Laurent warned as he raised himself up so he hovered over Damen, barely maintaining any points of contact, to the temporary disappointment of both of them.

It was likely an empty threat, for Laurent couldn’t imagine how he could halt this once they properly started. Still, Damen nodded his eager acceptance of the terms.

Laurent reached his hand behind himself, brushing first over himself to lubricate his fingers, then briefly over Damen’s thigh, before encircling Damen’s dick. He gave it a couple of teasing strokes, not that Damen actually needed any more encouragement now. Then, meeting Damen’s wide eyes, he guided Damen into place and let himself sink down inexorably slowly, enough that Damen made an almost pained noise of self-denial when he had to stop himself from just thrusting up.

When their bodies were finally flush against each other, Laurent was somehow able to make himself simply rest there for a long moment, taking it in. Damen made an impatient sound, but still didn’t move. 

_This_ was what his body had been craving every few months, and what Laurent had been strictly denying himself up until now. Damen may have fucked him countless times by now, in every way from lazy morning coupling spanning hours to frantic sex that would have seemed almost brutal but for the feelings underlying it. But it was different, Laurent immediately discovered, during heat. 

Just the feeling of Damen, solid and full inside him right where Laurent needed him, was on its own more satisfying than almost anything that they’d done during the hundreds of hours that they’d spent together during prior heats. 

But Laurent couldn’t be tided over by just that for long, of course, when he knew that it was a clear promise of more, and one that his body expected would be delivered on. 

When Laurent gave Damen permission to move finally, it was clear that Damen had let the Council’s presence fade from his mind, for he made no attempt to disguise their actions, the sharp snapping of his hips leaving nothing to the imagination. 

Damen was also more vocal than he probably would have been had he remembered that they weren’t alone. Laurent, for his part, was glad that Damen’s words had devolved into a stream of barely-intelligible Akielon, for there were some things that should stay between just the two of them. Luckily, none on Laurent's Council spoke the language fluently enough yet to follow along with the quick and breathless utterances.

Laurent couldn’t quite hold back entirely from vocalising either, despite his best efforts, but he did manage to restrain himself to only gasps and occasional quiet moans rather than actual words. The fact that even those managed to be forced from his lips under such circumstances spoke to how overwhelming it was to finally, after seemingly endless months – no, _years_ , in fact – of making himself wait, experience the one real thing he’d been missing out on. 

A full-throated cry was wrenched from Laurent’s throat, echoed by one from Damen, when Damen couldn’t stand letting Laurent set the pace anymore and rolled them over so that he was on top, the way he preferred. Laurent didn’t even think of protesting, for there was something about that position, at least when it was with Damen, that simultaneously made him feel safe and doubly aroused. And there was little enough to complain about when somehow Damen didn’t even fall free of Laurent throughout the motion. In fact, the jolting movement caused Damen to strike a place inside Laurent that had him forgetting whatever promises he’d made to end this if Damen disobeyed him. 

Though Damen did still reclaim his grip on the bedframe, as if he suddenly remembered that Laurent had sworn to end this if he let go. He used the additional leverage to set a fairly bruising pace, which Laurent thoroughly approved of. 

Laurent found a grip of his own, kneading at the muscles of Damen’s shoulders. It was intended both as an encouragement and to give Laurent a handhold to allow him to meet the thrusts in kind. 

Laurent almost protested out loud when Damen stilled, but then he felt the pressure inside him start to increase. He blinked for a moment in shock, as if he’d somehow forgotten that this would happen. He couldn’t deny that it was beyond welcome, though. If penetration during heat was the satisfaction of a need he’d borne for years, this was beyond that. Laurent hesitated to call anything perfect – that kind of thing was more in Damen’s realm of comfort than his – but surely if anything met that description, this had to be it. 

The swelling reached the point where Laurent didn’t think he could handle any more without exquisite sensation shifting to pain. At that point, Laurent’s body arched almost too hard into Damen’s body, though it wasn’t truly possible to get any closer. Laurent didn’t care about such logic, though. All he was aware of was his own pleasure being wrung out of him, his cock pulsing its release in an echo of Damen’s. 

Laurent’s vision whited out as his arms, feeling suddenly weak, dropped from Damen’s back to the sheets. His fingertips mindlessly brushed over the silk, as if that, or anything at all, could keep him grounded in the moment.

It didn’t work, of course. 

It wasn’t as alarming to lose track of reality then as it had been the last time Laurent had been exposed to the heat drug, for there was nothing in that moment that either Damen or he might instinctively seek to do that Laurent wouldn’t have welcomed this time. But Laurent could tell, when awareness came back to him, that although some time had passed, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

Still, the change was obvious. Laurent was barely even breathing hard anymore, for one, where it seemed like a bare moment ago he’d been trying to suck in oxygen as if he’d been drowning. And Damen, though he was still settled firmly inside Laurent and would be for quite some time in total, until the knot finally went down, was no longer hovering over Laurent. He had instead settled his weight lightly against him. He was pressing his face into Laurent’s throat, alternating between drawing long breaths in through his nose and sucking hotly at the apparent source of the scent he was inhaling. 

Damen’s position had the added benefit of meaning that he could see nothing but Laurent’s skin, as well as Laurent’s hair where it was fanned across the pillow that Damen must have considerately moved so that it was propped comfortably under Laurent’s head.

Laurent, sadly, hadn’t thought to hide his own face away. That meant that he was confronted with the sight of Herode, who was carefully averting his eyes now that he’d already witnessed the necessary part of his King’s bedplay. He also couldn’t help but spot Enguerran, who was by now likely redder in the face than Laurent had ever been in his life. His hands were gripping the wood of his chair so firmly that he would probably walk away with his fingers bleeding from splinters. 

“Satisfied?” Laurent asked the gathered Council. 

“Clearly not as much as you,” Vannes replied, her bared teeth a beacon even in the low light. 

“Too bad for you,” Laurent said. “If you want to fix that, go seek out one of your pets and stop bothering me.”

“But I’m so enjoying the view right here,” Vannes said.

“Oh, was I too polite? Allow me to rephrase in a way that isn't open to misinterpretation.”

“Get the fuck out, all of you,” Damen growled, pulling Laurent closer to his chest possessively.

Laurent smirked. “Precisely what I was going to say.”

The Council did file out as requested, thankfully, though not without one last leer from Vannes. 

“Are there any other horrific Veretian traditions we’re going to be expected to adhere to?” Damen asked, sounding mortified now that he’d recalled that they hadn’t been alone.

“Only if you count the tradition of never being able to share a heat with any other Omega now that you’re tied to me as being horrific,” said Laurent.

He felt Damen smile against his skin. “No. I think you’ll find that that’s a requirement that I’m actually looking forward to fulfilling.”

“You’d better,” Laurent said forcefully, when really he meant something entirely different.

“Our lives are going to change now, you know,” Damen pointed out, as if Laurent hadn’t considered that far more thoroughly than he had. 

“I know,” Laurent said. “But then, I suppose I’ve always liked a challenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, finally. How could it possibly have taken me this long to write full heat sex/knotting in an A/B/O fic? I'm a strange person, what can I say. Anyway, one more chapter to go! I'm excited. :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are trigger warnings for this chapter in the end notes. Please click through to check those out if you’re concerned. I promise this is a happy ending, though. 
> 
> So this is the +1 part of this 5+1 fic, and is therefore the final chapter. I think I’m in shock. It’s finally really over. The proper no-more-fics-planned-for-the-series kind of over this time. A huge thanks to everyone who has left kudos or comments on this or the earlier fics, especially those of you who must be almost as crazy as I am because you’ve stuck with me on this more or less since the start of the series. Who knows if I’d have ever finished this monster without that kind of motivation. <3

The meeting of their lips was soft and brief, barely more than an affectionate peck, for Damen had been eminently careful with him recently. Too careful. 

At this point, Laurent was practically desperate for any physical contact more purposeful than the tender brush of Damen’s thumb across Laurent’s slightly-less-defined-than-usual cheekbone. Any time Laurent had tried to progress things past that kind of touch, Damen had quickly flushed and made his excuses. 

Not that Laurent was lacking in other attention from Damen. Damen had taken to seeking Laurent out at all hours of the day and night, even at those times when Laurent knew very well that Damen was supposed to be in the middle of important meetings. Laurent would have suspected that Damen did so because he thought that Laurent would otherwise be bored. However, a small army of servants had been recruited to cart into Laurent’s rooms a personal library big enough to keep Laurent occupied for years rather than just a few months, so that surely couldn’t be the real reason for the nearly constant visits. So Laurent instead settled on the explanation that Damen was simply concerned for him, even if that seemed to be the only thing he felt for Laurent recently.

Laurent supposed that he couldn’t say that he entirely blamed Damen for having hardly touched him in the last two months. After all, it wasn’t as though Laurent currently bore much of a physical resemblance to the man to whom Damen had immediately been attracted. He hadn’t been quite willing to broach that topic outright until now. Damen would be kind about it, but that might make it even worse. The last thing Laurent wanted to see in Damen’s eyes was pity. 

But enough was enough. And Damen had taught him that sometimes the direct approach was necessary. 

“You know, Nicaise says I'm beginning to look like a whale,” Laurent pointed out, testing. “He also says I’m now as wide as the largest tower at Chastillon.”

“Ignore him. I always try to. After all, Nicaise probably hasn’t spoken a true and inoffensive word in his life,” Damen dismissed. 

“Yes, well, even Nikandros says it looks as though I’m about to burst open like an overripe melon.”

“If he’s not careful, Nikandros might find himself exiled to oversee some remote part of the country until his back is stooped and his hair is thin and white,” Damen said. 

Laurent scoffed, “Please, you’d cave in and call him back after less than a week. Besides, I have every intention of handing a screaming child over to him on a regular basis. How am I to do that if he’s on the other side of the kingdom?”

“Mmm, that might actually be a better punishment,” Damen acknowledged.

“My thoughts exactly,” Laurent said. “But my point was actually that the consensus is that I’ve become wholly unattractive as of late.”

“Hardly a consensus,” Damen argued. “Would you like a third opinion? You look just as you did the first time I met you.”

“You mean I look like I want to kill you?” Laurent asked wryly. 

“Sometimes,” Damen acknowledged, “especially when I have to run off before I can massage your back or rub your feet. But I meant that you’re as lovely as you’ve ever been. If anything, in fact, you’re more beautiful than ever.”

“Am I?” Laurent asked mildly. “Interesting. Because it isn’t just the guards outside my room that have seemed to stop looking at me lustfully over recent months.” 

“You think I don’t want you?” Damen asked, incredulous.

“Recent evidence speaks for itself.”

“Clearly not,” Damen said, “or you’d be aware of how difficult it’s been for me to keep myself from ravishing you in case I hurt you in the process. I can barely stay in the same room with you without breaking my resolve to protect you, even from myself. You clearly have no idea at all what you look like, carrying my child.”

“Oh,” Laurent said in realisation. He could barely believe that that hadn’t occurred to him before. The pregnancy hormones must have been scrambling his brain. “You get off on the fact that you managed to get me with child, especially on the first try, don’t you? Of _course_ you'd still find me attractive right now even if no one else does, with all of that instinctual Alpha pride driving you.”

Laurent was treated to the recently oddly familiar sight of Damen’s cheeks reddening, which seemed to be a sign that Laurent had finally drawn the right conclusion from his behaviour. If he needed any further proof, though, Laurent apparently only needed to glance down at Damen’s lap, where the otherwise smooth line of his chiton was ruined. 

Laurent licked his lips and decided that he wasn’t satisfied with merely looking, for they hadn’t done more than share chaste kisses for months. If that hadn’t, after all, been from lack of wanting on either end, Laurent could see no reason to let it continue a moment longer. 

His fingers crept up Damen’s thigh, disappearing under the thin layer of cotton. 

“Laurent...” Damen said as Laurent’s fingertips skirted over his hipbone before swirling slowly inwards, but to Laurent’s ears it sounded nothing at all like a protest. And neither did the shallow gasp that Damen emitted as Laurent’s fingers finally traced along the length he’d spied jutting out beneath the fabric. 

Laurent whispered, “I’ve been dying for you to fuck me for weeks.”

“I’ll hurt you,” said Damen with a tinge of renewed hesitation. 

“I won’t break. And I’m sure I’ll be quite comfortable as long as I stay like this,” Laurent said, gesturing to the way he was lying on his side, his belly supported against a feather pillow.

Laurent hadn’t even finished the sentence before Damen was scrambling eagerly around him to curl himself along Laurent’s back. 

Since his belly had started to really swell outwards, Laurent had taken to wearing a large and loose chiton, unbelted, rather than subjecting himself to too-restrictive Veretian clothes. Even the thin undershirts that most Veretian pregnant women and Omegas tended to wear seemed too constrained compared to the Akielon options. 

So it was only a matter of Damen flipping up the long skirt before an oiled finger was pressing at him. 

Even though Laurent was usually the one pressing for them to go slower and draw their bedplay out, now Damen practically put him to shame with his torturous pace. Laurent was reduced to begging at one point, but Damen apparently still wasn’t convinced that he’d been prepared enough, for he took no pity on Laurent when he cried out for relief. 

Sometime just after the point that Laurent had the thought that he might come from just this after all, out of self-preservation if nothing else, he then decided that he’d never really liked being a passive participant anyway. If he had to take things into his own hands, as it were, he wouldn’t let that put him off. 

He reached behind himself, fumbling for the jar of oil for a moment before he gave Damen a reminder that Laurent wasn’t the only one he was torturing by drawing this out so much. 

Damen’s erection had admittedly flagged somewhat in the long stretch of time he’d spent focusing solely on Laurent. But once Laurent formed a stronger grip, Laurent barely had to work for more than a moment to get Damen the rest of the way to full hardness. 

“I asked you to fuck me,” Laurent reminded him. 

Luckily, Laurent didn’t need to make the same request a third time.

Damen’s first press inside him was no quicker than the preparations that had led up to it, but Laurent didn’t mind quite as much now that there was a real promise of more on the way. He rocked his hips back encouragingly. He was unable to get much leverage given his current position, but there was something nice about the almost lazy way their hips rolled together, finding a steady but gentle rhythm. 

It didn’t take much longer before it occurred to Damen to wrap both arms around Laurent, one coming to rest against Laurent’s chest in an embrace, while the other drifted down to Laurent’s lap with intent.

Laurent’s breathy gasps as he thrust forward into his husband’s hand and then back against his hips must have informed Damen that he was close, striving for completion, but not quite able to get there, for Damen’s pace picked up, as if he’d momentarily forgotten his decision to continue treating Laurent like fine crystal, even now. 

When Damen lightly pinched one of Laurent’s oversensitive nipples, that extra stimulation was finally enough that Laurent gave a sharp yelp and came. 

It was no surprise that Damen didn’t follow him, even with Laurent clenching around him, for although he enjoyed tenderness and exploration in bed, he’d never personally been as enamoured of achingly slow build-up and temporary physical self-denial as Laurent was.

He slipped free of Laurent and manoeuvred himself around Laurent’s body, likely hoping that Laurent would at least pick up where he’d left off earlier with his hand. Laurent was only too willing to comply, really, but at that moment he was brought up short before he could reach for Damen. He gritted his teeth.

“Ow,” Laurent said. 

“Sorry, was I too rough with you?” Damen asked, concerned. He carded a hand through Laurent’s hair comfortingly, a clear apology.

“You were ridiculously thoughtful and gentle, to the point that I wanted to strangle you. I told you I wouldn’t break.”

“And yet you sound like I hurt you,” Damen protested, looking annoyed at himself. 

“I think you’ll find that this pain is the inevitable result of what you did eight and a half months ago, not anything that you did in the last few minutes,” Laurent said pointedly. He curled in on himself slightly, his palm falling against his abdomen as if that could stave off any future waves of pain that would originate there. 

Damen was silent for a long moment, processing Laurent’s words, before he looked forlornly down at his still-hard dick and said, “Seriously? _Now_?”

“Oh sorry, are my labour pains inconveniencing you?”

“No,” Damen said, abruptly no longer sounding put out in the slightest. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You were supposed to have two more weeks.”

“Please feel free to convince the baby of that,” Laurent offered. 

“I would if I could,” Damen said, and that was when Laurent heard the worry in his tone. 

It occurred to Laurent that Damen might have heard the wide-spread whispers that echoed around the halls of Marlas about how, even this far along, the birth of an heir still wasn’t a sure thing. The pregnancy might have begun easily enough, after a single shared heat, but that was no guarantee of an equally easy ending. And then there was the extensive discussion of the narrowness of Laurent’s hips, which people said couldn’t be conducive to birth despite him being an Omega. Queen Egeria had been slight of build as well, they noted, and look what had happened when she’d tried to birth a child of Akielon build. 

Whether it was because he’d overheard such things or for some other reason, though, it was clear that Damen wasn’t quite ready for the reality that this was going to happen now rather than in a couple of weeks, and whatever the outcome would be, it couldn’t be delayed.

Relatively speaking, of course, because fourteen hours after that first pain, Paschal was still telling Laurent that it would likely be a while yet. 

“We should get a second opinion,” said Damen, who clearly had no desire to watch Laurent writhe in pain at increasingly regular intervals for any longer than strictly necessary.

“If any physician other than Paschal comes within twenty feet of me, I’ll dissect them while they still draw breath,” Laurent warned. “Unlike you, I’m not naive enough to think that no one would try to use my current incapacity as an opportunity to target us.”

Admittedly, that would perhaps have been more of a likelihood had Laurent been giving birth at Arles rather than Marlas, but even here Laurent was taking no chances. 

“Also,” Nikandros said to Damen from where he was settled on a chair in the corner, “most of the physicians we have on hand here are Alphas, and if you haven’t noticed, you’re already practically gnashing your teeth at _me_ , when you know that I’d rather cut out my own eyes than to have to see your husband giving birth, let alone actually touch him during it.”

As if to prove that point, Damen audibly growled at the thought of any Alpha being so intimately close to Laurent. Even Nikandros probably wouldn’t be welcome inside the room soon enough. 

Which begged the question from Laurent: “If you’re not here to actually help, what exactly is the point of your presence, other than to possibly refuel the gossip that I might have been bedding you on the side?”

Nikandros shrugged and said, “I’m just here for now for moral support.”

“When have I ever needed your support?” Laurent asked, irritated enough to forget for a moment that he had, in fact, needed Nikandros on his side more than once. 

“I meant support for _him_ ,” Nikandros countered, waving his hand at Damen, who, after more than half a day of waiting without being able to do a thing to help, did look like he was on the verge of snapping.

Laurent narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “I’d rather Paschal’s attention not be split anyway, so you should take him for a walk or something when it’s time.”

“I’m not a dog,” Damen huffed. 

“You’re also not a physician. You’d only get in the way.”

Damen looked primed to argue for a moment, but then it seemed to occur to him that he actually had little more desire to have to watch Laurent actually giving birth than Nikandros had. 

Another four hours stretched interminably, with Laurent nearly crushing the bones of Damen’s hand to powder whenever particularly strong pain hit him. 

Finally, however, Paschal leaned close to Damen and suggested, almost quietly enough for Laurent to have missed it, that it was time for Damen to take his leave. 

“Thank fuck,” Laurent said expressively. 

“Hey!” Damen protested. 

“Not that you’re leaving, idiot,” Laurent said. “But that means that this should be over soon.”

Vaguely mollified, Damen pressed a kiss to Laurent’s sweaty forehead before reluctantly allowing Nikandros to drag him from the room. 

“If only I could just wander off and sit this one out as well,” Laurent said wistfully. 

“Yes,” Paschal said, “that would be nice. Unfortunately, this is going to be unpleasant.”

“It’s already unpleasant,” said Laurent.

Less than an hour later, though, it was obvious that Laurent hadn’t truly known the full meaning of that word. 

“ _Never again_ ,” Laurent gritted out when Damen was eventually allowed back into the room, half hanging off Nikandros for support as if he’d just been through as much of an ordeal as Laurent had. Behind them, Laurent could see Nicaise peering through the doorway, trying to look casual. 

“Hmm, looks like you didn’t die horribly after all,” Nicaise commented glibly. He sounded supremely unconcerned about Laurent’s continued well-being, of course, but Laurent knew better. 

“Thank you for your concern,” Laurent said, sounding sarcastic but actually meaning it.

“You look grosser than ever,” Nicaise added. “Do you know how red your face is right now? And I had no idea that much sweat could come out of one body.”

“What did you mean, ‘never again'?” Damen interrupted the two of them.

Laurent flicked his gaze away from Nicaise and said, “I mean that now that I’ve experienced the supposed joy that is childbirth, I’ve realised that it’s hardly an experience that I’d like to repeat. So you’ll be lucky if I let you so much as hold my hand outside of my heat, let alone ever fuck me again during it.”

“I’ll be lucky if I _can_ hold your hand ever again. I think you might have broke mine earlier. It’s still throbbing.”

“Was that _you_ who experienced nearly unbearable pain today?” Laurent said dangerously. “My apologies for not inquiring after your health, then.”

“I don’t think he’s in the mood for jokes, Exalted,” Nikandros warned. 

“What gave it away?” Laurent asked from between clenched teeth. 

Thankfully for Damen, Paschal chose that moment to return from the table where he’d been checking the baby over. The crying new-born was in his arms. The child didn’t entirely quiet upon being laid in Laurent’s arms, though she did clutch weakly at his sweat-dampened chiton.

Laurent, on the other hand, did go silent. He blinked, shocked. 

“She’s a girl,” Laurent suddenly realised. 

“Well spotted,” Nicaise said. He added, pointing to Damen, “No wonder this dolt waxes poetic about your intellect whenever anyone will at least pretend to listen.”

“But there hasn’t been a girl born into my family for nine generations.” Laurent protested. 

“And as I understand it, there wasn’t an Omega in the Veretian royal family for several times more than that, until you came along,” Damen pointed out. He looked down at their daughter with the softest expression Laurent had ever seen on Damen's face, even including those he directed at Laurent. “But if you’re trying to say that she’s an unexpected miracle, I agree entirely.”

From where he was leaning against the door frame, Nicaise was making exaggerated gagging sounds. 

“It just didn’t occur to me that our child might not be a boy,” admitted Laurent. “It’s explicitly against Veretian law for her to rule, you know. And that’s hardly a common occurrence in Akielos, either.”

“Then that can be the first new law when our kingdoms are finally properly united under one banner. And it may not be common, perhaps, but in Akielos we still do have a history of strong female rulers. Ios herself was a queen,” Damen pointed out. Then he looked thoughtful. “Though it is true that people might protest the need to throw out centuries of tradition if there’s ever also a legitimate male heir.”

“What part of ‘never again’ did you not understand?” Laurent asked. 

Besides, under no circumstances could Laurent imagine agreeing to pass over his daughter, even for another child of theirs, just because of her gender. It was too similar to what might, under other circumstances, have happened to him even though the laws had technically allowed an Omega to rule.

He would fight even harder for her right to rule than he had for his own, Laurent decided. 

But still... “It will take time to enact such a change and have it be truly accepted. What if something happened to us long before she came of age, and we didn’t have time to put measures fully in place for her?” Laurent asked. He didn’t have to spell out the similarities between such a possibility and his own past reality. “Then who would champion her ability to become Queen?” 

It would be even worse being raised believing that you’d rule only to have those expectations dashed than it would to know from the start that you weren’t in consideration. Laurent considered Kastor, made a Crown Prince only until a better option came along, and even to an extent his Uncle, when he'd been so close to ousting Laurent from his throne only to have his plans thwarted. Laurent would never want such bitterness to touch his child’s mind or heart. “I would like to spare her the pain of losing her only real supporters,” Laurent said. “Or any pain at all, for that matter.”

Softly, Damen said, “And you worried that you wouldn’t be a good parent. But you don’t have to worry that she’ll face what you did. She’ll have countless people standing in her corner, ready to protect and serve her in our stead, if that ever becomes necessary.” 

Damen glanced demonstratively at Nikandros, who was already looking at her much the same way Damen was, and how Laurent imagined he himself must be: as if they’d readily kill for her, and would do even more than that if it were necessary. Laurent couldn’t help but think then, with a pang, of Jord, who'd been willing enough to do anything for his future King that he’d died following Laurent's orders. 

It occurred to Laurent that, much like Damen, their daughter wouldn’t even be here now, if not for that. Yet another reason to feel thankful, and therefore guilty for being thankful, for that sacrifice. 

The thought that there could be others who might show his daughter a similar devotion, and whose loyalty might lead to that same loss and guilt, was in a way heart-wrenching to Laurent. But, as the firstborn heir, that was her birthright even more than it should have ever been Laurent’s. And Laurent would selfishly far prefer that than her having no one so thoroughly on her side. 

“But I don’t think it will be an issue anyway,” Damen added with a coaxing smile. It was as if he could sense the path that Laurent’s thoughts had taken and wanted to draw him back to what should be a perfectly happy moment. “You’re too good at getting us out of trouble intact.”

“Someone has to make up for your knack for getting us _into_ trouble,” Laurent said. 

“ _My_ knack?” Damen looked utterly disbelieving at that, but he apparently didn’t think it was worth it to actually protest further than that. 

Laurent observed, “Actually I think, if anything, she’s going to bring more trouble to our doors than either of us do, at least once she’s nearing adulthood. Look at her. Even having your unruly hair, judging by that curly little tuft, she’s lovely. She’s bound to attract at least as many suitors as I did,” Laurent observed.

“You like my hair,” Damen protested.

“I'd prefer she had your eyes,” Laurent said. “Much easier to deal with on a daily basis than those curls. Though many infants have pale eyes at first and don’t keep them, I’m told, so perhaps she might yet end up with both.”

“No, they’ll stay blue, I think,” Damen predicted. “At least I hope so. I love your eyes.”

“You two are fucking ridiculous,” said Nicaise with a shake of his head. “I hope she grows up looking and acting nothing like either of you.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to influence her instead,” Laurent suggested. Even though Damen protested that vociferously, Laurent noted that Nicaise didn’t. He instead looked slightly pleased by the idea that he might be allowed to do that. 

“I should start now, then,” Nicaise said, holding out his arms as if to take her from Laurent. 

“There's no way he’s holding my daughter before I even get to,” Damen said. 

Laurent was tempted, then, to hand her over to Nicaise after all, just to see how Damen reacted. Instead he took pity on his husband and let him, so carefully, lift her from Laurent’s grasp. His arms felt too empty suddenly with her gone, but Laurent reminded himself that it wouldn’t be for long. And she was perfectly safe with Damen, who looked too awestruck by her to ever risk her coming to the slightest bit of harm. 

That made it clearer than ever just how much he trusted Nikandros, for Damen eventually handed their daughter over for him to hold without a second thought for her safety. Laurent didn’t protest, knowing as well as Damen, from personal experience, that if nothing else Nikandros would never hurt someone that Damen so clearly loved.

Laurent was particularly glad that he’d allowed Nikandros to hold her a few seconds later when she promptly spat up all over Nikandros’s chiton. 

“You’re my favourite person in the whole world,” Laurent confessed to her with a sly grin when Nikandros quickly handed her to Laurent with a grimace. Nikandros glared at him as if Laurent had been the one to dirty him. “And you have impeccably good taste and aim.”

Nikandros, keen to go bathe and change, chose to practically drag Nicaise out of the room by the ear as he went. Presumably that was as much to deprive Nicaise of being able to boast that he’d been able to more successfully hold the baby than Nikandros as it was to finally give Laurent and Damen some privacy with their daughter. 

Laurent barely noticed them go, too focused on the sight of his daughter back in his arms. 

“I admit that I didn’t even think about what we'd name her if she was a girl,” said Damen some time after their visitors had left. “I thought you would probably want to name a boy Auguste. I suppose there’s always Augusta.” Damen’s expression told Laurent that, boy or girl, he wasn’t exactly keen on their child being such a constant and obvious reminder of what had stood between them, but that he would learn to live with it for Laurent’s sake if that was what Laurent wanted. 

It wasn’t. Laurent would like to honour his brother, yes, but he wouldn’t care to suggest that he was trying to replace him with a namesake. 

“No,” Laurent said, “we won’t call her that. There is a trend, some ten generations old, of the firstborn Veretian royals having names beginning with an ‘A’. Auguste once told me that he liked the continuity of that; that it made him feel as much a part of his ancestry as his titles and position did.” Laurent would like his daughter to have an opportunity to feel some connection like that to her fallen uncle, even if it was only in this tiny way. “But the only time we tend to actually reuse a name from one generation to the next is the tradition of naming the second child in our family Laurent.”

“But apparently there is to be no second child, at least if I wish for my cock to remain attached to my body,” Damen said with a wisp of amusement. 

“Exactly,” Laurent agreed. “And even if that weren’t the case, I’d never be interested in giving any child a name that’s already so heavily laden.”

Laurent could tell that at first Damen assumed Laurent meant the connotation of being the spare heir, always second best, when Laurent had been very much treated that way by his own father. 

He could also plainly see the moment when Damen made the connection between second sons and Laurent’s uncle. Laurent gave him a stony look, not wanting to discuss the man in front of their daughter, even if she wouldn’t yet understand their words.

Thankfully, Damen instead chose to turn the conversation light again, saying, “Well anyway, it wouldn’t be fair for you to name one child after yourself unless the another bore my name, and this little girl doesn’t really look like much of a ‘Damianos’ to me.”

“No,” Laurent agreed. “She doesn’t look like a giant animal at all.”

Laurent wasn’t yet quite sure what name did suit her, though. And although Damen claimed not to mind if Laurent was the one to choose her name, he did seem slightly impatient to know what Laurent would decide upon. 

“Am I to learn of our daughter’s name only when you tell it to the rest of the kingdom?” Damen asked late the following day.

“You said you didn’t mind what it was,” Laurent reminded him with a slight quirk to his lips 

“I’d still like to _know_ it at some point,” said Damen, sounding slightly exasperated.

Laurent handed over the official scroll a scribe had prepared a few hours earlier, which they would have to sign after they officially declared their daughter to be the Crown Princess. 

“Aeliana,” Damen read. In the Akielon accent, the phrasing of it sounded almost musical to Laurent. Damen added, “It sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Perhaps from one of those ballads they sing at the feasts in Akielos,” Laurent said. “It was the name of an Artesian Queen. It was one kingdom once. It will be again. And she will rule it. Her name should reflect that, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” agreed Damen. “It sounds perfect.”

It took three days for Laurent to recover enough and Damen to have let his overprotectiveness die down enough for them to publicly present the new princess to her future combined kingdom. 

After they’d announced Aeliana’s birth, name and position to the crowds, they had to bear a long line of people who had to meet her and swear fealty to her, even though she wouldn’t personally remember their oaths. 

Many of the flightier Veretian courtiers fawned over Aeliana to an almost sickening extent, not unlike how the Alpha courtiers had treated Laurent after his first heat had finally happened. It was as if they thought that they could already begin currying her favour, or at least Laurent’s on her behalf. Laurent knew them too well to ever allow that to happen. Aeliana would only ever place her trust in those of substance and true loyalty, if Laurent had anything to say about it. 

The Akielons seemed more genuine in their greetings towards her, though they were for the most part no less outwardly jovial about her birth.

“She has the look of the Vaskian warrior women,” Makedon claimed. How he could, with a straight face, say such a thing about an infant too weak to raise her own head yet was beyond Laurent. He was nonetheless pleased when Makedon added, “She’ll make a fine queen.”

“See,” Damen told Laurent. “Even my warriors need no convincing that she should be a ruler even though she wasn’t born a boy.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll still be able to add many notches to her belt when she is grown, girl or not,” Makedon concluded. Laurent supposed that was the absolute best version of hopes for her future that Makedon could imagine offering. 

“And _I’m_ sure that she’ll be intelligent enough that she won’t ever need to concern herself with actually killing people with her own sword or spear,” Laurent countered. “Though you’re right that she’ll be formidable enough to do so if she wanted.” 

This spurred raucous laughter from Makedon. “Rather like her Omega parent, I suppose,” he said, and didn’t make it sound at all like he thought that it was an insult.

“Hopefully you’re not _just_ like me,” Laurent told Aeliana quietly as Damen was distracted by Makedon. “I’d like you to have a far easier path than the one I had to take. And to be honest, I’d actually prefer you to be a little more like your other father. Or like your Uncle Auguste, for that matter, because I wasn’t quite being honest with your father when I said ‘never again'. Eventually I want to give you younger brothers and sisters who'll look up to you, and who you'll be so kind and protective towards that they'll tell you that you're smothering them even as they secretly love it. Don't tell your father about that, though. As far as he should be concerned right now, he'll never be touching me during heat again.”

“What were you saying?” Damen asked as Makedon finally re-joined the rest of the procession of well-wishers. 

“I was just telling her that Alphas are ridiculous and that she should avoid ever falling for one if she can help it,” Laurent lied. 

“I don’t think it ended that badly for you, did it?” Damen protested. 

“No,” Laurent said, pressing a kiss to Aeliana’s head, and then to Damen’s lips. “I don’t suppose it did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this last chapter: This last chapter contains fairly brief references to the possibility of miscarriage/stillbirth or death during childbirth. Also, there’s a relatively sad reference back to a character death earlier in the series (pretty sure you can guess which one).
> 
> And it probably won’t come as much of a surprise, but there's male pregnancy, and also sex taking place during the late stages of said pregnancy. 
> 
> If any of these things are likely to trigger you or otherwise make you want to opt out, feel free to pretend the fic/series ended at the conclusion of Chapter 5.


End file.
